July 1, 2022 · 9:27 pm
Textured washcloth in a pastel color,
I love how my skin you exfoliate.
You make my oily skin look so duller;
For your great glory, I extoll ye, mate!
When I am lonely and in a great need
Of very crude and masculine release
I need no manual to for to read
To help you bring me to a restful peace.
You cost so little, less than fifty cents
And you loyally last my whole life long;
Textured pastel washcloth, I ask you whence
Did you become so grand, forever strong?
You are more than just a cheap toiletry;
You, my washcloth, are the best part of me!
April 5, 2021 · 6:57 pm
How soft the calling of the rose in bloom;
Its rage not diminished by its small size,
For it has seen a man deliver doom
With not a drop, remorseful, from his eyes.
The rose who screams has seen its brothers fall,
Cleft and tied as trinkets for a hot date.
It cries without lungs, giving it its all,
Petals in bloom, show’ring it foes with hate.
Then red and white and pink and gold align
Together in the vengeful rose’s song,
A harmony unheard by humankind
Until they are a dozen voices strong.
Then weep! The florist ends their final day.
Aren’t you relieved I brought you no bouquet?
Filed under Poems
Tagged as Battle Cry, Flowers, Humor, Nature, poems, Poetry, Postaday, Relationships, Roses, Sonnet, Travesty, Vegan
November 6, 2020 · 8:58 pm
If I had good fortune to get bit by
A radioactive beast of some kind
And gained a superpower related
Here’s what superpower comes to my mind:
I would be bitten by a human dad
Of a small child, aged between three and five
And gain power to really steal noses
From any human who is now alive.
I would wander town to town in a mask
And say, “Got your nose” to a passer-by
And see the annoyance turn to shock when
They see that what I said is real, not a lie.
Then I’d put their nose back and fly away.
I think that would really make someone’s day…
June 28, 2020 · 11:00 am
Faith, hope, and love are good things He gave us,
From His bright temple so high up above,
Hoping that our faith in Him would show us
That the greatest of these many is love.
I’ve met women named both Faith and Hope though
And hoped to find a faithful love with them,
And hope for Hope and faith in Faith did grow
Though faithful love I hoped for would not stem.
But sometimes for what you hope and you pray
Are not what faith intended at that hour;
Sometimes what seems like hope misplaced may say
That patience can be full of wondrous power.
So here I am, my faith tested before
Still hopes your love is still worth hoping for.
March 24, 2019 · 6:23 pm
In the domain of clouds and bursting sun
Lived Lychlorida, daughter of the sky.
In thermals and in tailwinds she’d run,
A sister to all birds and things that fly.
In green and blue and black oceans and seas
Lychlorida sent rain to her brother,
King of water, born of a river breeze,
The second child of their divine mother.
Beneath ocean and sky, sister enflamed,
Deity of fire where the earth’s plates grind,
Asked why only Lychlorida was named
(Although she found she really didn’t mind).
And last, on Earth, the fourth child, king of stone
Knew none of this; He just played on his phone.
October 8, 2016 · 10:18 pm
As the stars align in the Summer sky,
As one century turns into the next,
So do we give thanks Bruce Jenner’s a guy
And people still call when, tempted, they might text.
We’re thankful that the world is small and flat,
That European powers rule it all.
Perhaps above all else we’re thankful that
No team would play with a deflated ball.
Yet as we smile, gratef’ly reminiscing
We dream of a future where a black man
Can be elected president, dissing
The establishment, saying “yes we can.”
And so we sleep comfortable in our world
Never suspecting it could be unfurled.
September 25, 2012 · 9:54 pm
Think back to your birth, whenever that was.
You cannot remember it, so I’ll help.
You came into this world in blood, because
That’s how nature works, and you gave a yelp.
You were spanked by a doctor, and you cried.
Most people were suitably indifferent.
But if not for hurtful things, you’d have died.
Now I hope that, to you, life looks different.
Every person in your world’s a doctor.
They hurt you, and pull you from your mother.
But all of them, life to you do proctor;
Treat them not badly, but as a brother
Life comes in many forms to us, so smile.
Joy lasts forever, pain but for a while.
August 4, 2012 · 9:45 pm
Hark, as this sonnet rolls across your screen,
The day unfolds before you, like thick screens.
Unless you read this sonnet at night, seen
By your eyes through darkness,without sun’s sheens.
And as you finish the first stanza here,
You visualize both day and night, yes.
Perhaps you drink some milk, or perhaps beer.
Perhaps you instead visualize chess.
Whatever sites and sights your mind goes to,
You will most certainly agree that it
Ventures there so willingly, unless you
Have a mind that decided to just sit.
But no matter what you find, here my call:
This sonnet is about nothing at all.
July 1, 2012 · 10:23 am
For those of you who did read the poem
That I posted on this blog yesterday,
This sonnet should not cause surprise to them,
For my identity’s taken away.
Now bank accounts and credit cards belong
To Prince Harjinder from Nigeria.
To Lifelock I am singing this sad song.
It was a scam. I’d no ideria.
Now my mortgage is foreclosed. Makes me sore
That people would do such a nasty thing.
But a Canadian pharmacist yore
Assures me I can get lots of free “bling.”
Disclaimer: I am not really this dumb,
But it makes for funny poems, ho hum!