Tag Archives: Travel

The Longest Road

I travel by the road at dawn,

The sunrise at my back,

Unaware in blissful youth

Of all the things I lack.

When day has broken, I press on

In a cardinal direction,

Unaware that I’m unguided

Save by pleasure and affection.

By noon I sweat and labor on

Beneath the sun I know,

Still the same despite the fact

It has a harsher glow.

Beyond that point I cannot see,

The sun filling my eyes,

And do not know that all I know

Is naught but youthful lies.

Then I lie down to rest myself

After the sun has gone

And wait until the sun returns

To blindly carry on.

What few have seen when journeying

Beneath the gold sun’s light

Is how the road’s a circle

Sloping gently to the right,

Still fewer will discover

(And even fewer learn)

Is whether we are blind or wise

When, to dawn, we must return.

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Another Win For Airport Security

Bob and Jim were terrorists

With three-ounce bottles of shampoo.

Steve and Josh were anarchists

And they each had some shampoo too.

They made a bomb to kill some folks

By pooling all of their shampoo

And they would have succeeded

If Dan, with the nail clippers, had gotten through.

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My Limerick Live-Stream

There once was a poet from WA

Who flew this morning to CA.

He rode in car

And it’s been good so far.

Also, he’s tired. HaHA!

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Socialism: Free Trial Edition

If you’re tired of Trump

Then make the jump

To sunny Venezuela!

There you can shirk

And do no work

And the socialist state will pay ya!

You’ll save so much money

It isn’t funny

‘Cause there’s nothing for sale to buy

So if you bite your thumb

‘Cause there’s no food to bum

You can tell South America “hi.”

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The Placelandian National Anthem

Placelandia! We celebrate

The nation that is not a state,

The place where politicians come to die!

Where residents have common sense

And our plan for national defense

Is not to be a dick to folks nearby.

Placelandia! We celebrate

Our lack (so far) of Watergate

Or other nasty scandals of that kind.

Where citizens think differently

And something backs our currency;

A country built with happiness in mind.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

A nation that can safely be ignored.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Where drama-seeking tourists will be bored.

Placelandia! We celebrate

That here nice guys can get a date

And nobody is told they must comply.

Where everybody owns a Glock

And Fox exec Rupert Murdoch

Would not have had to cancel Firefly.

Placelandia! We celebrate

A place mostly devoid of hate,

Where legs just shave themselves if given time.

We hope you have enjoyed this song

And pop stars didn’t sing too long

Before the very easy ending rhyme.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

It’s a pretty snazzy kinda joint.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Okay, okay, okay! We get the point!

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Filed under Lyrics, Poems, Songs

When You’re Flying In 16A

Like the great beluga whale

It weighs a couple tons,

Is pale as homemade yogurt,

And very seldom runs,

It makes a high-pitched squealing

When it means to share its views.

It mentions it’s in 16B

And apparently that’s good news?

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The Lord Of The Rings

A while ago

There was a guy

Who dreamed of being

A fiery eye.

We don’t know why

He felt the need,

But we know that

He did succeed.

The problem with

Old fire-eye’s plot

Is that what he wanted

Others did not,

And so he hid

His power away

So after his death

He’d still be okay.

He put that power

In a magical ring

That got stolen by

A greedy king,

And that repeated

Several times

Through fire and snow

And temperate climes.

Then one day

Some fishing midgets

Found that ring

And asked “what ij it?”

One said “mine!”

The other said “no!”

And so the midgets

Came to blows.

The winning midget

Became a beast

Who hid in a cave

Eating Fancy Feast

Until more midgets

Came along,

Stole the ring,

And sang a song.

A few years later

There was peace

And the ring’s new owner’s

Male niece

Got the ring

As a birthday gift,

Met some elves,

And got a lift

To Rivendell

Where it was decided

Fire-eye’s ego

Had the land divided

And that the only

Thing to do

Was to break the ring

Of you-know-who.

The elves said that

The ring must be laid

In the Mordorian lava

In which it was made.

The dwarf said

“That’s a lot of work,”

Hit the ring with his axe

And looked like a jerk.

So midgets and co.

Went on a quest,

They got betrayed

And left the rest,

Wandered alone

To the volcano of doom

Where the trolls and orcs

Drummed “boom, boom, boom.”

While they did

The men, dwarves, and elves

Fought three hours of orc wars

All by themselves,

Had a romantic subplot

With the long-lost human heir

And the elven princess

With the CGI hair.

By now midgets passed fire-eye’s

Most fiery gazes

Then the ring-bearing midget

Had just one of his dazes,

Turned to his friend,

Said “No Sam! The ring’s mine,”

Then dumbass lost his finger

And it all turned out fine.

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