If you think a Banshee’s scream is bad
You have never heard
The scream of the mythical Banthey
When one’s been misgendered.
If you think a Banshee’s scream is bad
You have never heard
The scream of the mythical Banthey
When one’s been misgendered.
Filed under Poems
A kid with jelly on his hands
Picked up a DVD
And put it in to watch a film
On their big screen TV,
But yet alas, the dirty disc
Got stuck around halfway
And it repeated the same old scene
Even when they pressed “play.”
Then finally they’d had enough
And said “I’ve had enough,”
Pulled out the disk and wiped it off
Then did some other stuff.
A five-year old can figure out
When something isn’t right
To make a new plan without delay
And still have fun that night.
And yet the leaders we voted for
Have yet to grasp this thought,;
Instead they say “shots didn’t work…
“How ‘bout another shot?”
Filed under Poems
There once was a cat of Schrodinger
Who wanted to give science the finger.
He said “I will stay
“And also walk away.”
Thus he simultaneously did and did not linger.
Filed under Poems
Their wonce was amen from Bolder
Hoo new mai dotter end tolled hurr
“Eye a door ewe, Amanda
“‘Cause u un-derstanneduh
“Spelling sin the I of de beholdre.”
Filed under Poems
A haiku has five
Syllables, and then seven
On the second line
According to a
Study by Milner and Stein
In 2005.
They discovered that
The five-seven-five pattern
Was correlated
With most old haiku.
That means haiku have three lines.
Polysyllabic.
This correlation
Was confirmed by researchers
Who can count numbers.
To learn more, check out
My works cited I stole from
Wikipedia.
Filed under Poems
I think the biggest reason
Why the term “minion” exists
Is because all the female henchmen
Continually insist
That “henchman” is a sexist term
And they should be called “henchperson”
And the trust relationship
With their villain starts to worsen.
To avoid such conflicts
The term “minion” is used instead…
Until the feminists learn “minion” means “cute”
And say “Call us ‘persons of evil’ instead.”
Filed under Poems
Today I wrote
“Why did the chicken cross the road”
And someone petty replied
“You forgot the question mark…
“You meant ‘Why did the chicken cross the road?’”
So I went out and bought a chicken
And named it Why Did
And I commanded it:
“Why Did the chicken, cross the road!”
That’s what random internet people get
For being grammar nazis.
If I were a professional athlete
Who married a supermodel
And knew my progeny’s eventual genes
Would be cranking out talent full-throttle
I think I would name my son “Daddy”
Just to see the look on some faces
Whenever my son is revealed as the one
Who wins all the games and the races.
“Oh yes, Daddy’s enormous”
All the commentators would say
“And Daddy’s been known to dominate
“Everybody who stands in his way.”
Let’s say Daddy learned to play hockey…
I think that would sound pretty slick:
“Daddy comes quickly towards the goal!
“I love how he handles his stick!”
Daddy could master the breast stroke,
Or hook up with a tight end,
Dribble his ball for a lay-in
Or illegally use his hands “to defend.”
Yes, my athletic son Daddy
Would make even golf fun to watch…
But alas, God made me a poet
And no athlete shall be conceived by my crotch.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I wish
That I were a fish,
But then I think
“What if I sink?”
Just then my daughter
Said “Fish can breathe water.”
I said “You wish!
“Fish can just holds fish.”
Filed under Poems