Tag Archives: Random

Seriously, Just Don’t! It Takes A Certain Charisma And/Or Unusual Size

Why must titans always clash?

Why can’t they just get along?

Titans could have tea and cake.

What about that is so wrong?

Why must titans always fight?

There’s other things for them to do

Like fly a pretty titan kite,

Play titan games, or make a stew.

If you’re a titan reading this

En route to your next clashing spot

Please know that you are not defined

By your ability to crush a big robot.

And if you’re a non-titan bloke

Just casually reading ’cause you’re bored

Don’t try to unclash titans too

‘Cause most likely you’ll just be ignored.

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Or I Could Be A Colonel

I don’t want to be a gastroenterologist.

As a career I vehemently denounce it,

But should fate make me a gastroenterologist

I guess at least I’d learn how to pronounce it.

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How I’m About To Meet Your Mother… Or Big Chad, The Inmate

As if unprompted, she said

“I am not a chair! Don’t sit on me!”

I’m not inclined to sit on strangers

But now I kind of want to see… 

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Who Needs Memory Anyway?

“Clumps of dainty silver bones

Mixed amidst the silent stones

Are bathed not in blood or tears

But in the light of yesteryears.”

I don’t know the meaning of that verse,

If it be blessing or a curse,

But it’s tattooed on my forehead

Which is why I no longer drink before bed.

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Never Thought I’d Miss “Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?” But Alas…

“If I were a pickled spleen

Kept in a jar for 30 years

Charged with electrical current

In a chamber full of your darkest fears,

Then released from the jar on a Sunday

And carried overseas by some birds

To attend celebrations in Istanbul

Would you still kiss me afterwards?”

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Just Stop After The First Three Lines

Glum spelunkers

Flop  and scoot

And wobble in a crevasse.

I don’t know whether

That’s relevant or true

But it sounds nice, so that’s something.

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Camelot, <60 Seconds Before This Poem Becomes Tomorrow's Poem

The table’s round.

The knights are young.

The swords are drawn

And the fu is kung.

The mists descend

Like falling water

While the king mourns

That no one has yet made “Welcome Back Kotter.”

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