Some sayings sound satisfying
But don’t apply to real life,
Like “what comes up must come down”
Doesn’t work for the weight of my wife…
Tag Archives: Truth
Children’s Music
For those of you who do not know
I have a sparse financial pool,
And so to make some extra bucks
I teach chess at the local school.
Now, names are hard to memorize
So sometimes we play games
To have fun, but mostly to
Help master all the names.
One such game is but a song,
Wherein the person pitched
Is sung to in a pattern
In which some letters get switched:
“Jamie jamie bo bamie,
“Bannana-fanna fo famie,
Me, my, mo mamie,
“Jamie.”
Yes, it is a silly game
But it does its job.
The problem is that you don’t want
To make the children sob
So every single child
Gets their own letter-swapping chorus
To help us learn their names
Before they play chess and ignore us.
In the old days all the Jamies,
Davids, Duncans, Kyles, and Joes
Could sing this song as easily
As “Head, shoulders, knees and toes.”
But now all the La’shamquas,
Chimeras, Flexktons, and Ka’drames
Don’t work as well with this song
(And the Aidan/Caden/Jaydensall sound the same).
Still the worst name ever
That I’ve applied this method too
Was a little boy named Tucker
Who didn’t want to go boo-hoo
So a class of twenty children
Sang “bannana-fanna fo…”
Then sang the next line to the principal
Who then told me I had to go.
So that’s why I am hustling
With my chess board in the park.
Sometimes you end up a hero.
Sometimes Tucker makes you a shark.
Filed under Poems
Hint: I’m Burning The American Southeast In Effigy
It’s my birthday.
The Seahawks lost.
You may or may not draw
An accurate conclusion
Of my happiness (or lack thereof)
Based on that information.
Filed under Poems
A Commoner Poem
If I were cast in Game of Thrones
I think I’d be a peasant
‘Cause I’m a lousy actor
And my death would be more pleasant.
Filed under Poems
True Story Guest Post: The Epic of Hwy 99
Such a travesty is BC Hwy 99I think the guys who built it were blind
Or perhaps were very drunk
This road doesn’t make sense to a duck.
The road was built for Mario Cart
Level one is 340 degree turns
Level two is curves that lead to un-marked one-lane bridges
Level three add turning trucks
And if that isn’t more than enough
Level four the deer are suicidal.
Level five we take away the road signs
Level six adds falling rocks
Level seven adds the rain
Level eight is and 15% grade
Level nine is 10 km/hr on that grade
I don’t want to reach level ten —
Not even the Buddha has that level zen.
JOFFRE LAKES!
Now it all makes sense!
And at the village intersection
As the clock strikes midnight,
We pass the bloody Grim.
And across a bridge we go
To be warned of washout conditions.
I have 99 problems
And this road is all of them.
Filed under Poems
What We Really Mean
Happy birthday Facebook friend!
This past year your life didn’t end.
You didn’t factor much into my life.
We’re only friends ’cause of my wife.
Filed under Poems
The Quest For Common Sense (And A Wonderful Resource For Those Who Fail It)
I tell this tale and sing this song;
‘Tis neither short nor over long.
It is the tale of whom I met
When towards the darkness off I set.
I ventured to a fright’ning spot,
All at one both cold and hot,
And in its center stood the tree
Of personal responsibility.
And beneath that mighty central birch
I met a figure on its perch,
A lovely human, clean and bright
Yet I stood only half its height.
It spoke to me with radiant voice:
“To you I grant this single choice:
“To leave my grove, still safe and dense
“Or to eat the fruit of common sense.”
I looked again at the dreadful tree
From which grew apples, light and free
And with the hymns of wisdom fair
Filled joyfully the grove’s clean air.
And then I looked beyond the wood
To whence I came. Alas, still stood
Where man and beast were much the same,
Obsessed with power, sex, and fame.
To the glorious figure I did ask
What treachery hid within my task,
What fear and pain accompanied
The fruit of logic and its seed.
“No pain at all,” the figure said
Extending apples, smooth and red.
I knew not what was wrong nor right
But I grabbed the fruit and took a bite.
No longer was the forest bleak.
I couldn’t hide. I needn’t speak.
Where once the darkness clutched my heart
I only saw the world’s true art.
Where once I begged, now I produced.
Where once I guessed, now I deduced.
Where once had stood the figure bright
Now stood a mirror to my sight.
And yet the place from which I came
Sat glumly, still the very same.
I stood in brightness, stared at black,
And knew I never would go back.
So if you wander, wondering
Why you’re not pleased with your new thing,
Why your whole life seems second best
I summon you to join my quest,
To seek out forests rank with fear,
And from them soon there will appear
The brighter, lighter, clearer you
That knows and does what’s right and true,
Who looks at worlds of smog and spite,
Yet does his best and smiles despite.
Eat the fruit and so commence
Your brand new life with common sense!
But if back home you would return,
If common sense you seek to spurn,
If you treat dumbness with aplomb
You’ll find your kin at Facebook.com
Filed under Poems
Free Vacation Anyone?
What comes up
Must come down
Except the human propensity
To find reasons to frown.
But on the moon
The proverb’s incorrect,
So send the easily offended to the moon!
Does anyone object?
Filed under Poems
Seriously, Just Don’t! It Takes A Certain Charisma And/Or Unusual Size
Why must titans always clash?
Why can’t they just get along?
Titans could have tea and cake.
What about that is so wrong?
Why must titans always fight?
There’s other things for them to do
Like fly a pretty titan kite,
Play titan games, or make a stew.
If you’re a titan reading this
En route to your next clashing spot
Please know that you are not defined
By your ability to crush a big robot.
And if you’re a non-titan bloke
Just casually reading ’cause you’re bored
Don’t try to unclash titans too
‘Cause most likely you’ll just be ignored.
Filed under Poems
Dear Internet: Why The Exception?
You can’t mock someone ’cause they’re fat,
Ugly, stupid, stuff like that.
You can’t make jokes about a race
(At least not to somebody’s face).
You can’t gay-bash, slut-shame, or mock
The way one laughs or thinks or talks.
But you can defame or spew hate at
Those with neckbeards or a fedora hat.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 