Tag Archives: True Story

A Historically Accurate Transcription Of Events Preceding The Invention Of The Microwave Oven

In 1920 some guy said

“A thought just poppethed into mine head.”

His peer responded “Tell me sir,

“What thought does cause thine brain to stir?”

Some guy then said, in a manner quite prickly,

“What if I had a box that heated food quickly?”

His peer replied “Your thought is bold,

“But how about heating the plate and leaving the food cold?”

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In. Case. They. Screwed. Up.

When. I. Read. Hai. Kus.

I. Read. Them. One. Syll. A. Ble.

At. A. Time. Don’t. You?

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The Hero We Deserve

I hope somewhere there is a bat

Who’s terrified of men

Who flew off to train with ninjas

And (insert syllables here) then

He became a vigilante

Fighting crime and stuff like that.

He holes up in his man cave

Because he’s called Manbat.

He wears a man-shaped costume

With a cape that’s shaped like fat.

The drives his manmobile badly

Because he is a bat.

I want this very badly

Mostly ’cause of the “man cave” pun.

His sidekick is called Flamingo

And yes, this poem is done.

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Autobiography, Chapter 1

Writing lousy poems

Is really not that hard.

It doesn’t take a lot of work

To be a blogging bard.

The only bit that’s difficult

Is deciding what to write,

Thus my meta-poetry

At 10 o’clock at night.

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Truth, AKA The Last Resort

Once again I find myself

Besot by evening’s chill,

No longer in possession of

The time I had to kill.

My mind fixates upon the task

I’ve thus far left undone:

I swore I’d write a poem a day

And yet have written none.

Thus I lie upon my bed

Writing where I am now,

Stating the truth about my life

As syllables allow.

Now comes the peril of present-tense:

I write that I’m writing,

Now I reread the previous line

To see if it’s exciting.

I also find, where once I wrote

Six syllables then eight,

My meter has forsaken me

By virtue of it’s late.

Thus endeth my desperate foray

To create relevant verse.

To all reading I bid good night!

(Poetry is a curse).

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A Poetical Update/Cry For Help

As I was reading through my blog

Upon this snowy day

I realized there’s lots of posts

That, by default, went away.

There are two-thousand-something poems

That I’ve written on this site

And to have them be forgotten

Just really isn’t right.

I looked into solutions

But to add a button here

To send you to a random post

Costs $600 a year (Seriously WordPress? Seriously?)

So my solution to preserve

Those posts into which I put thought

Is to compile a book that’s bigger

Than the books you’ve already bought. (Hint hint)

So a thing that I am wondering

About my biggest-book-yet dream

Is whether to just compile stuff

Or whether to have a theme.

And here’s the part where you come in:

Please help me make you happy

By commenting or emailing me

Advice to make the book less crappy…

Is an omnibus of random poems

With my thoughts added enough

Or do you want a theme again

With more never-published stuff?

And if, of course, you don’t reply

I’ll just decide myself

But I’ll make the cover aubergine

So it looks weird on your shelf 🙂

Comments welcomed on the site, or emailed to thedailytravesty@yahoo.com

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Life In Washington State

Two inches of snow

Means schools are closed tomorrow.

Colorado laughs.

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