“Clumps of dainty silver bones
Mixed amidst the silent stones
Are bathed not in blood or tears
But in the light of yesteryears.”
I don’t know the meaning of that verse,
If it be blessing or a curse,
But it’s tattooed on my forehead
Which is why I no longer drink before bed.
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Like an inexpensive cut of meat
Stewed for many a lukewarm hour
You’re welcome when sold on my street
But far less welcome in my shower.
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Lucid wall of rusty bricks…
Placid bolt of melted meat…
Suit all made of candle wicks…
What the heck did I just eat?
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I got a suspicious email
From Prince Magbar of Venezuasia
Saying “want to go fishing this Sunday?”
You can’t let emails like that faze ya.
I got another message
A week after the first.
“Dear friend, I must give you money
“Or I fear my spleen will burst.”
I finally blocked his messages
To no longer get that spam,
But only moments later
I questioned who I am
To deny a man with money-spleen
From going fishing with his dear friend.
I replied, guiltily, and we met by the lake
Where he tore out and ate my lungs. The end!
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Never chew your eyebrows off.
“Why would I?” You surely scoff.
“And also how?” You’ll likely say.
If you so choose you’ll find a way.
Thus my warning: Please don’t try.
For this you’re welcome. Now good bye!
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Yesterday I got a badge
From my blog on WordPress here
That said “you’ve made 1,337 posts.”
Of that I’m glad to hear.
I wonder about the programmer
Who came up with that badge though.
Why 1,337 is so important…
Will we ever really know?
Sure, there is 1,000.
There is 2,000 too.
1,500, 999, or even 2,002.
But 1,337
Was the number this guy chose.
Well, thanks for sticking with me
And sharing moments just like those!
Filed under Poems
