My charger is broken,
My battery’s low,
So here is a poem.
Now I’ve got to go.
(One stanza’s too little,
So I wrote this postscript,
Risking my battery
So you don’t feel gypped).
Tag Archives: Postaday
This Always Happens…
Filed under Poems
If I were better
If I were better looking
I might’ve turned out vainer,
And fighting off all my admirers
Could be an energy drainer.
If I were affluenter
I’d have a doctorate degree
And I’d spend all of our evenings
Psychoanalyzing me.
If I were much more charming
I’d deserve a laurel wreath
And I could blind you accidentally
With the gleaming of my teeth.
If I were any better
I would surely be much worse
So quit whining and accept me
And stop being so darn terse.
Filed under Poems
Born This Way
You’ve probably seen a zebra,
That pretty, stripy horse,
And you probably know a pinto
And a black stallion of course.
And lots of horses have little marks
That make them look real rad,
But no one loves me, for I’m a horse
Who was born in neon plaid.
Filed under Poems
Fissions of the Past
I’ve been thinking about Eden,
About Adam and his rib
And pond’ring how to make it
Poetical and glib.
And I realized the Bible
Could be scientifically read
If you thought of Eve’s creation
As splitting the Adam instead.
Filed under Poems
Chameleons and I
I don’t have a pet chameleon
Which is probably for the best
Since I would run that chameleon
Through an all-inclusive test.
What does a chameleon
Change its color to
If it’s put in a room full of mirrors?
That’s on what my mind does stew.
And can you still watch tv
If chameleons cover your screen?
Can a blind chameleon imitate
Things that it has never seen?
And are some chameleons lazy
That after they change their color, say,
They lack the motivation to change
And just keep their scales that way?
I’ll never get a chameleon
As this poem will attest
For if I did the chameleon
And I would never rest.
Filed under Poems
Mango Musings
I vacationed on an island
Full of lovely mango trees
Where canoeing villagers
Sang upon the seas.
They sang the songs of heroes
And the mango ballad too
They told me that the mangoes
Made a person strong and true.
But those island villagers
Knew not of what they sang.
Mango’s the masculine of “manga”
And the Spanish word for “mang.”
Knight Time Thoughts
Perchance thee may have noticed
By coincidence or choice
That those who penned auld english
May have just had a lispy voice,
For whosoever speaketh
In a way that soundeth so-eth
Makes any present participle
With the “th” phoneme groweth.
Perhaps that just be-eth my inkling,
Yet verily ringeth of truth.
I’ve spake my bit, and leaveth now
With a flutter and forsooth.
Filed under Poems
The Ice Cream Bar
When they invented the ice cream bar
They missed an opportunity
To add an element of class
To the nightlife community,
For think about a bar you know:
Alcohol’s all she wrote.
Why not mix your drinks up
With a regular beer float?
And who wouldn’t enjoy
Three dozen flavors on tap?
The very thought of an ice cream bar
Just makes me want to clap!
And if your drinking because of pain
Something sweet can end the sobbin’.
Thanks for listening, venture capital guy,
But what’s a Baskin Robbin?
Filed under Poems
The Love Pretzel
I was once in love,
A simple kind of joy
That occurred exclusively
Between a girl and boy.
Then another woman
Caught my vagrant eye,
And a triangle evolved
From what once was you and I.
But you had strayed as well,
And our love became a square.
I knew this would be easier
If we would clear the air.
As it so happened I fell in love
With only my original,
While you loved all three other corners
Although it was conditional,
And our other pair both fell in love
With us and with each other,
And I find we all are desired
By none other than my mother.
And thus my air-clearing venture
Cleared things up a lot
For it revealed our love pretzel,
Alexander’s loving knot.
Filed under Poems
Big Reggie’s Last Stand
I’ve finished the sweeping,
The mopping, the shining,
For those who arrive
For our casual dining.
I’ve whipped up the chicken,
The fruits and the veggies,
Prepared to serve unto
The clientele of “Big Reggie’s.”
I’ve washed all the napkins,
Plates, forks, and knives
For those who, by eating,
Will lengthen their lives.
I’ve waited all day
Since the first whiff of dawn,
Yet no one will eat
At the box on my lawn.
Filed under Poems
