Today I stood out in the rain
And didn’t wear my hood.
It was frigid and soggy, yes,
But still felt pretty good.
I stood and looked at nothing much
And let the boredom grow
And those tiny discomforts helped
Much more than you can know.
I talked to her at a bus stop
And watched her walk away.
I’m stronger from the fire, now
A pot instead of clay.
And as I walk home in a pair
Of shoes devoid of style
Empty pockets will warm my hands.
My whole being is a smile.
Filed under Poems
Most men enjoy solving problems;
It gives them a meaningful life.
Alas, this is not something wanted
By most men’s eventual wife.
A man will fix up an auto,
A house, a business, a toy,
But it’s not solving problems but having them
That I’ve noticed most women enjoy.
A woman takes pleasure in saying
“I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m gross,”
Because other women say “me too”
And by such connection grow close.
If a man tells another “I’m hungry”
Another will say “have a snack”
And the problem is solved with five words
And the men to their task may go back.
Now the trouble occurs when the solvers
Treat problem-lovers the same:
A woman says “I’m bored,” and the man
Says “go play a video game.”
Now if the woman obeys him
She’ll prob’ly no longer be bored
And thus need another discomfort
Until her drama-quota’s restored,
So the man has given a solution
Which really won’t help her a bit
So she says “you don’t understand me!”
And runs off and calls him a git.
The man is confused by her answer
But has a solution to that:
He says to himself “bitch be crazy”
And then changes the sink in his flat.
So men, if you want to help women
Be happy then here’s what to do:
Have lots of flaws in your character
So she’ll always have drama with you.
And women, you know how to please a man
And don’t need advising from me,
But (as a man I must say this)
Without drama how happy you’ll be!
Filed under Poems
Such is the river adamant:
Neither deep
Nor swift upon the rocks
Of misunderstanding,
Nor should she nod
When it means “optic nerve,”
Or so the sages said.
Two times the wolf.
Two times the narrator.
So why is this a lie detector?
Just read this to someone and ask them what it means to them.
If they say “it’s crap,” congratulations! You have an honest friend.
If they say “the bit about the wolf was chilling” (or anything else, for that matter) you have a suck up, a liar, or (worst of all) a PhD on your hands.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
I remember yesterday
When to look at someone was okay,
When an elbow or a shoulder touch
Didn’t mean nearly so much.
I remember yesterday
When a compliment would make her day,
When “you look nice” was not a slur
When casually said by him to her.
I remember yesterday
When a man held doors and asked to pay,
When a bit of gentle care
Was not met with a dour glare.
I remember yesterday
When a guy could idly say
“What’s your number?” and not fear
Her screaming “rape” for all to hear.
So if you remember yesterday
In the aforementioned way
And know its loss would lead to sorrow
Let’s keep the past in mind tomorrow.
Filed under Poems
I think I know why plants don’t speak
And the reason is this:
They cannot pronounce the word
“Photosynthesis.”
My other hypothesis
For why speech is elusive
Is that plants are politically moderate
(But evidence is inconclusive).
Filed under Poems
He’s an average Joe
Except for really rotten luck
And in a single setting
For the whole film he’ll be stuck
While he tries to save his family
From a grand conspiracy
‘Cause that’s what folks’ll pay to see
Liam Neeson do!
He seems to only star in films
Whose titles start with “the,”
Except of course for Schindler’s List
And Taken 1, 2, 3.
He’s a frequent award nominee
For both his movies and TV
Which shows that people love to see
What Liam Neeson do!
His six-foot-four-inch figure
Makes all women want to burst.
He’s never died (‘xcept in the Star Wars
That used to be the worst).
So if you go to see a show
Then you should already know
The feats he’ll do (and in slow-mo)
To show off more his manly glow
And yet somehow we still all go…
To see what Liam Neeson do!
Filed under Poems
