If at first you don’t succeed,
LOL! Sucks to be you!
If at first I don’t succeed,
You’re dreaming. I’m perfect. All this is true.
If at first you don’t succeed,
LOL! Sucks to be you!
If at first I don’t succeed,
You’re dreaming. I’m perfect. All this is true.
Filed under Poems
‘Twas a full moon
And the night-things were howling.
I was iff on my own
‘Cause my girlfriend was scowling.
She’s usually laid back,
Accepting, and kind
But once every month
She goes out if her mind.
She nags and she whimpers.
She speaks only commands.
Her heart freezes over
And she speaks with her hands.
I’ve put the time on my calendar;
I am no fool.
When the werewife awakens
It’s time to leave and play pool.
Filed under Poems
When you are but a babe
Bursting forth from mother’s loins
You know nothing about the world,
Nor, in fact, about Des Moines.
But as you grow, you learn
That, for instance, Dad’s a plumber.
You grow forever wiser
While at the same time, dumber.
You learn at one, for instance
That your body must stay clean
And when you’re put in the sink
They’re not doing it to be mean.
At the age of six or seven
You move on from baths to showers,
But you take them very quickly,
Unlike teens, who go for hours.
And sometime around age 20
You maybe fall in love,
And find new uses for the shower
As well as for that rubber glove.
And maybe when you’re 40
Amidst your midlife lull
You realize the shower
Is a gender-neutral urinal.
And by the time you’re eighty
And, in the shower, you have to sit
You wonder if that urinal thing
Also goes for…
And there you are in a nursing home.
Your mind has gone for good.
Thus endeth your enlightenment,
Or so we knock on wood.
Treasure thy body
Above thy mind.
Brains can go shoddy,
But not dat behind.
Filed under Poems
Count your eggs before they hatch
‘Cause then you’re set to know
How long your farm can hold its own
If you need an egg to throw.
Filed under Poems
This isn’t common, but it’s not just me
Who takes joy in sobriety,
For when the laughter is all done
I want to remember how I had fun,
And in life’s most joyous times
Like reading books and writing rhymes
A fluid ounce of honesty
Will always beat a pint in me.
For what is it we must obscure
To resort to boozing as our cure?
Fear of being seen as us?
Why should such things cause a fuss?
So give up fear and give up lies
(It’s easier than you might surmise)
And live a life, joyful, true.
Live a life with sober you.
Filed under Poems
I was taught something handy from someone called “Dad”
That although it is nice to have fun,
If you want to have something that you’ve never had
Try something that you’ve never done.
If you want to get anywhere in this here world,
You’ve got to most truly desire it.
If something’s in your head that makes dreams come unfurled,
It’s prudent to go in and fire it.
And thus, amidst humor, on occasional times
It’s wisdom, not comedy, that comes forth from my rhymes
Filed under Poems