Like oil in a lamp
Your body casts light
On those huddled around you
In the heart of the night.
Made brave by your radiance
We shall never tire,
But I still wonder why
Someone set you on fire…
Tag Archives: Short
Wherefore Doth The Pasta Descend?
With a great clatter
Falleth my platter
And on a great customer
Its contents do splatter.
And garments once gossamer,
Linen, and lace
Was not made awesomer
But red like my face.
A Feminist Unicorn
She is a shining unicorn
Cloaked in righteous fire.
To her all that’s unequal
Is an injustice dire.
A gynocentric unity
Is all she needs for bliss
And society might like her
If she didn’t look like this:
Filed under Poems
The Best Classical Music Parody You Have To Sing Yourself (Guaranteed Orgasm In 45 Seconds)
People say that music
Is the worst it’s ever been.
I disagree because of one song
Written by Herr Beethoven.
If you take his fifth symphony
(That goes Da-da-da duuuuuuuh)
And simply give it the lyrics
“Oh baby yeah, oh baby uhhh!”
It becomes a pop hit
To match the best today.
Here’s a link to prove it.
You’re welcome, by the way.
Helpful hint: Just sing those two lyrics with the melody for about twenty seconds and you’ll get the intended effect.
Filed under Poems
The Extent Of My Megalomania (Which Is Also A Good Name For A Country)
If I had my own country…
Let’s call it Placelandia…
I know exactly
The flag I’d want.
It would be all white
But with black letters
That said “Placelandia”
In the biggest possible font.
I think Placelandia
Would be kinda okay
And help elementary school kids
Get, in geography, an A.
Filed under Poems
And I Realize I Should Have Forwarded Those Chain Emails After All
I stand atop the rocky cliff
Above the salty ocean blue
And shout to myself “how lovely
“And beautiful are you!”
I stand atop the rocky shore
Above the crashing waves below
And my echo calls back softly
“Whoa now! Let’s take this slow.”
Filed under Poems
Nothing Good Stems From Small Talk… Get It? Stems?
I think I know why plants don’t speak
And the reason is this:
They cannot pronounce the word
“Photosynthesis.”
My other hypothesis
For why speech is elusive
Is that plants are politically moderate
(But evidence is inconclusive).
Filed under Poems
But The Microwave Is Silver…
The pot called the kettle black.
The kettle thought the pot was a racist kind,
But then kettle saw that the pot was black too
And, quoth the kettle, nevermind.
Filed under Poems
