Tag Archives: Weird

Imagination Friend

They described me as a “figment.”

They told you I’m not real

Even though nobody asked me

Whether that’s the way I feel.

They told you to let go of me,

To let illusions end

As if it were no trouble at all

To walk out on a friend.

They closed their eyes and turned their backs

And said “You’re hearing voices.”

They gave you lots of pretty pills

And, lying, called them choices.

“It’s your imagination,”

So they said and so they thought.

They don’t know imagination

Is the truest friend you’ve got.

They’re offering a tunnel

Ending in a wall of light;

It’s up to you to say what’s true,

To help your friend, to fight.

Who’s to say you’re crazy

Just for seeing what they won’t?

They offer you your sanity

While I most proudly don’t.

So do you leave me lifeless

And go on with real living,

Accepting their reality

And chemical’s they’re giving

Or do you block the wall of light

And beckon me to stay

And live a life beside me

In a state of endless play?

To take the pill and up you grow

Or spit it out and smile?

Love, your imagination friend…

I’ll see you in a while.

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Aye Aye, I! I Eye i^i Eyes, I Eye i^i “Aye Ayes,” and I Eye I’s i^i Eyes Eyeing i^i i^is With I’s i^i “Aye Aye” Eyes, Aye. I?

English is funny; Take the word “ship”

Which can mean a variety of things…

It can mean a big boat

That can carry other boats

Or other miscellaneous bling.

Therefore a ship who ships cargo

(Oh yeah, ship is also a verb)

Can ship ships as its cargo

(Or so is said as a ship-shipping blurb).

“Ship” can also be used

To describe imaginary romance

Where two hypothetical characters

Want to get in one-another’s pants.

In this sense, the word shipping

Is creating the romantic “ship,”

But could also mean that you think

The prospect of shipping is hip.

So if you like to like the idea

Of a romantic relationship between

A cargo delivery vehicle who delivers ships

Falling in love with a similar machine

You ship shipping ship-shipping ships shipping ship-shipping ships,

And that is grammatically correct.

Yes indeed, English is funny

But deserves at least grudging respect.

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Bless Me Son, For I Done Sinned

A while ago I wrote a poem

About how to be your own son.

Recently, through Jesus,

I wrote another one:

If you are a grandfather

Of your son’s male offspring

I’m happy to report that you

Can do an exciting thing…

If your son joins the clergy

As a Presbyterian

And you go to his church

Your grandkid is your Father’s son.

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Infinity

I was an ordinary guy

Who married a single mom.

My new wife had an adult son…

I chose to call him Tom.

I was the product of a household

If a single mom as well

And it just so happened that my mom

Was my son Tom’s new belle.

Mom and Tom got married

And things got really fun

‘Cause a man who’s now my uncle

Is also my stepson.

Also interesting,

And nearly twice as bad,

Is that my stepson/uncle

Is also now my dad.

So if my son’s my father

Then I really have become

My own father as well

Since I’m my father’s father’s son.

Thus I am at once myself

And someone unrelated.

One of me is weirded out;

The other is elated.

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Oscarbait 2019

I screamed at the milk carton

“Why doesn’t she love me?”

The milk carton pondered

For a long, long time.

Starring Keanu Reeves.

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Dialects

In America we spell “color;”

In the UK it is “colour” with a U.

In America it’s “blue”

InFrance it is “bleu.”

In America it’s “Hell;”

In Middle Earth it is “Moria.”

In America it’s “yay;”

In Catholic it is “Gloooooooooooooo,ooooooooooo,ooooo,oooooo…ria!”

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A Competitive Game

I asked the rock-paper-scissors champion

The secret of which symbol’s best to choose.

He smiled as he answered: “The key to my success

“Is, when I play, I always try to lose.”

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From My Rejected Spongebob Script

A daddy seashell said to his son

“If you want to have some fun

“Hold a human ear to your shell

“And you can hear the sound of blood. ‘Tis swell!”

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Somewhere, 1.923% Of My Readers Just Pooped Themselves (The Other 98.077 Need To Reevaluate Their Fetishes)

Find a deck of shuffled playing cards.

Pick a random card and write it down.

Then think of the number of letters

In the name of your favorite town…

If you subtract the number you thought of

From how often you think of French maids

You’ll find that the card you have written

Is in fact the seven of spades.

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A 49-Week Relationship

One day a friend said he’d set me up

With “A girl, 18/19.”

That turned into the weirdest date

On which I’ve ever been,

‘Cause when you see 18/19

You read the “/” as “or.”

He meant it as a fraction.

I don’t do blind dates anymore.

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