My son pulls out my arm and takes a bite of me
He lets go and takes four steps to the right of me
He crawls into the next room to get out of sight of me
As I stand up he peeks back in to see the height of me
I love to watch my 11 month old…
I pray that he grows to be a wonderful boy… in spite of me
Sometimes one can’t find the time
To find the words that make lines rhyme
One’s head is muddled with all kinds of stuff
Preventing one from writing off the cuff
That means that someone then has to think
To come up with that word that’s a perfect link
To get to the next line and the one after that
And finish a poem like…
Sorry! Ran out of time and can’t think of a rhyme for “that” that’s fitting.
See what I mean!!
Poor old, old, old, Rip van Winkle
Woke from his slumber ’cause he had to tinkle
Realized that he was all wrinkled
And didn’t see what he had sprinkled…
It seems he sprinkled an old lady’s shoe
Who already was confused about what to do
She saw the old man whizzin’ in front of her crew
And heard the kids crying in unison, “Ewwwwwww!!”
Tick Tock Tick Tock
I hear the ticking of my clock
Tick Tock Tick Tock
What can I do to make it stop?
Tick Tock
Should I stuff it in a sock?
Tick Tock
Should I hit it with a rock?
Tick Tock
Should I throw it off the dock?
Tick Tock
Should I shoot it with a gloc?
Tick Tock
I think I’ll fry it in my wok!
(Silence)
I think it went into shock
At the thought of frying in a wok
Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock
Where’d my clock learn to mock?
Very few things makes me feel as alive
Than when the summer school bell rings at 2:45
On Friday afternoon with the weekend ahead
Where I won’t have to stare at these lazy lugheads
This happens but thrice once the summer begins
When I obviously do penance for all of my sins
By babysitting those boys who failed certain classes
Because sometimes their brains were as slow as molasses
Two more Fridays and I’ll have to see them no more
And then I’ll rest for 6 weeks when I walk out the door
That is FO SHORE!
I am so hungry, I can eat a cow.
I like my cows in the form of steaks
The steaks taste best to me when they’re well done.
Please cook my steak and bring it to me now.
I am so hungry, I can’t see straight.
It’s a good thing I took typing classes and know where the keys are.
Otherwise I would be typing gibberish like this
bjkios lpwhj jdoi9qhj pwpuity-]
And who wants to read that?
Please bring me my steak, pronto!
I am so hungry, I’m salivating
I’m drooling like my four month old who’s teething
Except he looks cute while he’s doing so, and I don’t
It looks like someone dropped a water balloon on my head
With water that smells like spit!
Where the hell is my steak?
I am so hungry I can’t even think
That doesn’t make too much sense because I’m writing a poem and that takes thinking
Then again most people reading this probably figured that I wrote down stuff without even giving it a second thought, which may be true because I could only think of eating
I guess I really can’t think
My fingers must be typing on their own
Which is not good because they should be wrapped around a steak knife cutting through a well done skirt steak…
(NEW TYPIST)
He was so hungry he just passed out.
I’m not as talented as our original poet so I’ll just stop here.
Sorry.
Oh, hey, a steak. Good thing… I was getting hungry!
We live in a world where we settle for mediocrity
Yet get frustrated when we get stuck in a life of anonymity
We want to be recognized for doing nothing at all
Earn millions of dollars for watching others play ball
Our inert talents are wasted while imitating potatoes on a couch
Hoping someones drops before us a giant fotune on a pouch
Our frustrations start to mount when our gardens bear no fruit
We blame everyone else though there is nothing to dispute
It’s said that we reap what we sow, that saying’s got validity
So if we have nothing to show in our lives it’s due to our stupidity
I went to the kitchen and pulled out a frying pan
Just then my son came in screaming about his pen
That he was trying to attach to a safety pin
To create an object resembling a chess pawn
I told him this all sounded like a terrible pun
I went outside and encountered a gnat
Who had somehow gotten entangled in somebody’s net
The net appeared to have been recently knit
With the strings coming all together forming one knot
Anyone who saw me staring at the netted gnat in the knitted knot would’ve thought I was a nut!
Every couple of days I post something new
A story, a thought, a poem or two
I leave it in here for the whole world to read
Hoping to fulfill some reader’s need
I come back the next day and what do I find?
A comment was left by a wandering mind
A smile always seems to crawl onto my face
When I see someone posted here in my space
A random thought somehow makes it’s way
Past a hot cup of coffee onto this page each day
Every comment I get is from the same source
But that doesn’t ever deter me off course
Because that one small comment I always receive
Is what keeps me writing and makes me believe
That none of my writing was written in vain
And so I’ll come back tomorrow and start writing again
