Tyrants will be tyrants.
Braggarts will be braggarts.
These statements are self-evident
And fear no refutation.
Logicians will be logical.
Artists will be artistic.
So do or do not contrarians
Deserve their reputation?
Tag Archives: Random
Onomatopoeia
There are certain words
That are written like they sound
Life “oof” and “pow” and “shimmer.”
They really do abound.
Then there are things that make no sound
Like plants and orange and schisms
Which would make great onomatapoeias.
That’s the case with “colloquialisms.”
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems
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…
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems
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?”
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems
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.”
Filed under Poems
My First Acrostic
I is for my mother.
C is for my dad.
A is for my feelings.
N is for an impaler, namely Vlad.
T is for seismology.
S is for uninspired.
PEL is for impatience.
L is for “Am I Fired?”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 