To those of you
Who’ve found a love,
Or maybe just a date,
Tomorrow you’ll
Have happiness
From early until late.
For those like me
Who are alone,
Why are you still reading this?
You’ve still got
Some hours left!
Find something not-too-gross to kiss!
To those of you
Who’ve found a love,
Or maybe just a date,
Tomorrow you’ll
Have happiness
From early until late.
For those like me
Who are alone,
Why are you still reading this?
You’ve still got
Some hours left!
Find something not-too-gross to kiss!
Filed under Poems
I used to think the male gender,
Was a role in which I fit.
I was happy being “he”
Until they said “you’re it.”
Filed under Poems
My friends all shouted “goose”
As the spear flew towards my head.
I might be alive today
If they shouted “duck” instead.
Filed under Poems
On my iPad
I can write,
Listen to music
Or make my own.
I make spreadsheets,
Surf the web,
And instantly sync
With my iPhone.
I can download
All the knowlege
Of humanity
Or pics of a cat.
By default it has everything
I could want
Except a calculator,
‘Cause who needs that?
Her skin smells of home
Like a freshly-cooked meal.
Her hair gleams in the sun.
Like a newly mopped floor.
Her eyes are as blue
As just-cleaned toilet water.
Too bad she doesn’t
Live here anymore.
Filed under Poems
Brute strength can’t do everything.
Stamina has limits.
Despite how hard you try
Not every couplet rhymes.
You can lose your focus.
You can lose your mind.
Life might not gives you lemons,
And maybe not even limes.
Sometimes you write two stanzas
Before you realize
That you have no conclusion.
But you don’t want to erase.
Sometimes you write “you”
When referring to yourself.
Next time you write this poem
Instead use “what’s your face.”
Filed under Poems
She was like a James Bond villain:
Charismatic, certainly,
And she had a pool of sharks
And talked nonstop to me.
That suited me just fine.
I’ve also got an evil brain,
But I’m the type of bad guy
With bad teeth who gets thrown off a train.
Filed under Poems
My mind is a pomegranate:
Juicy, seedy,
And it leaves stains on whatever it touches.
You don’t know how it opens
And it takes hours to process
And doesn’t fill you up.
Luckily my heart is some type of meat,
Probably liver.
Mmmm… Liver.
You haven’t bought an ostrich
For several months at least,
Nor have you cooked a lemon
In chestnuts, corks, or yeast.
You’ve never thrown a hand grenade
At some Windex in L.A.
So quit telling me you’re bored
And please just go away.
Badass is a state of mind.
Take a photographer
Who takes pictures of weddings
For Mrs. And Mr.
He’s not traditionally cool,
But in his head
He’s a ninja in disguise
Taking photos of the wed.
Or take the guy at the Chevron
Who pumps your tank of gas.
He knows if you get mouthy
He’ll “swipe anywhere” on your ass.
Take a look around you
At the wallpaper, lights, and your shoes.
These could all be badasses
If they had the desire to choose.
Filed under Poems