Ok, ok, these doggerel lines don't hold a candle to Edgar Allen Poe. However, I happen to believe you don't need genius to write poetry, just a good command of the English language. I admit this stuff doesn't flow freely as it is engineered verse. If these don't float your boat, fine. The Internet is where people of modest accomplishment can strut their stuff -- or lack of it -- for all to see and wretch over.
A friend was facing an unexpected loss of employment.
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What can I say? This world is so screwed up, something has to explain why.
ODE TO MURPHY |
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Murphy, Murphy, Murphy His life was such a trophy They say he was an optimist As he promulgated his famous list Of how easy it is for things to go Awry I think I'm going to cry Never enough time What a great crime If it can go wrong It will go wrong If you're convinced it's right It won't be right If it looks long enough It won't be long enough Today it looks good Tomorrow it is not good What a beautiful and wondrous world Yet a perverse and weird world Murphy, Murphy, Murphy Life can be such a turkey |
I recently got nailed by a traffic light camera. The hearing officer didn't buy my lame excuse. $85 down the drain. So I wrote this poem to soothe my aching wallet.
Traffic Light, Traffic Light |
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Traffic light, traffic light What art thou, traffic light? Preventer of mindless flight. Ruler by night, Ruler by day, Guardian of the intersection 'Tween me and my destination Source of great aggravation Cause of many a citation Waster of gas Red lamp, green lamp My pants have become damp Trying to miss a tramp Stumbling over a corner ramp Soiler of fine cloths Cross walk, sidewalk, An unwelcome opportunity to talk, As I attempt to balk As bystanders begin to gawk A hooker's place of business Signal pole, support pole A big target roll An unavoidable goal At high speeds take their toll Gravestone of a fugitive |
Love is an act of one's will, so says 1 Corinthians 13. You want true love? Love your neighbor (or spouse) as yourself!
The Best Love | |||||||||
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The wife of a good friend recently passed on. They had been married 60 years. While we both know she is with our Lord, the pain of seperation is still great. I tried to put myself in his shoes.
My Wife's Gone Home |
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As I long for my wife of so many, many years I think back on the strife we had endured through troubled tears I hold her memory aloft while angels come and settle A wind so gentle and soft Her loss a new trial to test my mettle Her leaving is so incomprehensible Since we shared so much love on this earth Yet I know it is only sensible That God would want to give her a new birth. |
I'm going to become an educator! Over the web, of course. I wrote this for my new colleagues.
Apples for Teachers |
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Teaching is such a great profession To each generation in succession Students freely come and go Yet leave behind a magnificent glow Each eager parent a huge blessing Every young soul a time of testing When my heavenly home I someday reach My greatest reward will be those I teach Marching through the pearly gates Bearing apples for teachers in golden crates. |
My friend got himself a new job. From his description of his first week on duty, he's bitten off a good chunk of challenging intellectual meat. To chear him on, I wrote this poem:
Crystal Report Blues |
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Assemblies moan in unison, Details flow toward oblivion, My mind gasps, As the data clasps, To my aching, aching psyche, And clinging to my Nikes, Dragging me beneath the surface, Drowning me in intricate purpose, Each sales order line, Beating my head with pine, Expanding into a whole screen, With more numbers behind the scene, My hope of deliverance, As I make my entrance, My new job I have chosen, Has my sanity frozen, Oh! What have I done, For my desire is to run, But I must stay for two years, Lest my friend box my ears! |
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