My urine is made of pure oxygen
Because of a disease that’s rare.
It’s not that bad except for the fact
That my parents called me “Pierre.”
My urine is made of pure oxygen
Because of a disease that’s rare.
It’s not that bad except for the fact
That my parents called me “Pierre.”
Filed under Poems
Tiny perfect love
Harmless as the falling snow…
Let’s murder it! Lol
——————————————————–
If your life is bland
Even though you’re rich and stuff
Why not try incest?
——————————————————–
I like stories where
Characters have twelve names each.
Maybe that’s just me…
“Tough Stough”
They’re was once a person
Who said that life is though.
I think life was thougher for him
Because he was dumb, yo.
——————————————————–
“Follow Your Dreams”
It’s hard being a teenage mom.
I’m really not a fan,
But I think I have it harder
Given I’m a middle-aged man.
——————————————————–
“Find Yourself”
Iodine fluorine
Yttrium ununoctium
Calcium nitrogen
Rhenium astatine
Thorium iodine sulfur
Yttrium ununoctium
Argon rhenium
Uranium neodysium erbium
Tungsten oxygen krypton dysprosium oxygen
Filed under Poems
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?
Filed under Poems
Why’d the first flamingo think
“I’ll be flightless, awkward, pink?”
How’d the first hippo decide
To be as tall as it was wide?
Why did the first jackass choose
That name as the one to use?
You may wonder, so here’s a clue:
They all wanted to be like you!
Filed under Poems
Today’s the day we celebrate
The presidents half of us hate,
The two or three good ones we got
And the fifty-some we all forgot.
We do not have gifts or a meal.
There is no spirit that we feel,
But it’s a day off so we thank
George and Abe and prob’ly a Hank.
Filed under Poems
“Do you see what I see”
Is a stupid thing to ask,
For though the subject we both see
May be a boot or flask
I see it in the sunset
Flanked by gorgeous fall of night
But by virtue of an angle
You see it framed by walls of white.
I can see what you see
And you can see what I.
We can say “that is a boot”
Though we each use a different eye.
So why not on social matters
Cannot we likewise more agree
That if a thing’s more beautiful
To you than ’tis to me
That the thing itself objectively
Is, regardless, unaffected?
Because it doesn’t help dividers
Unite short-sight to get elected.
Filed under Poems
When one says “I must be dreaming”
(Implying you’re something they snoozed)
You should slap them with a chicken
Just to make them more confused.
An alligator also works
But they’re tougher to hide.
Also, if you’re sleepy and poultry-phobic
I find it’s best to stay inside.
Filed under Poems
I see little boys and girls
With very unique names
Like Cadence, Weston, Apple, Peityn,
Lembas, Crêpe, and Flames.
Now if your name is “Flames” you’re fine,
But “Crookshanks…” not so much.
So here are some modern names
I think are better much:
Verity, Sanity, Clamperl, Spore,
Visigoth, Boromir, Wikstrom, Implore,
Magnitude, Honeydunce, Kraftool, Parade.
Name your kid one of these and they’ll have it made!
Filed under Poems
As my eyes met the tape measure
I felt the fire rear up in my heart
And I knew that in the future
I could measure
In metric or imperial units
How high those heart-flames soared.
Some people mocked my passion,
Said I’m weird for longing
To know how long my longing was,
But I say its better than being bored.
When I feel that need to now how I feel
And I pull out that flexible metal bar
And with each box, each wall I measure
The heavens ring with a music
Only it and I can hear,
A cord’s secret chord.
And somewhere in that tape measure
That sings our hidden music
I hope its heart is happy
Knowing my pocket will be its home
And gone are the days
When its passions were ignored.
Filed under Poems