Mar 09 2009

The Gods Are Angry!




The gods are angry!
Oh, what have we done?
Our doom is coming!
There’s nowhere to run!

We sacrificed every virgin, on an altar so high.
Yet the dark clouds are still building, we are going to die.

We killed all the outsiders, who wandered into our tribe.
Yet the earth is still rumbling, the gods rejected our bribe.

We hung all the prophets, and burned all the books in fire.
Yet the volcano still rages, our future still dire.

We locked up the criminals, and punished all the sinners.
Yet the crops are still barren, we remain the offenders.

We spent all of our gold, building temples and tall statues.
Yet our people are starving, our people the gods abuse.

We conquered the heathens, only our righteous tribe remains.
Yet our flesh is still boiling, there is no rest from our pain.

The gods are angry!
Oh, what have we done?


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Jun 10 2008

Squish

Published by under Poetry,Poetry - Funny

splat

Oh little gnat on my glasses
How your guts are like molasses

I was out biking fast and free
Suddenly, a black dot I see

I blew at you to go away
Then shook my lens, and yet you stay

You had your chance, yet you linger
So I flicked you with my finger

Now I find to my great distress
You left behind a sticky mess

Oh little gnat on my glasses
How your guts are like molasses

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Dec 31 2006

Precious Childhood Memories

Published by under Poetry - Funny

Funny Poetry

Swimming, Swimming in the sea
Daddy, Daddy, look at me

Look! I dove into the lake
Well, very small steps I take

The fish don’t scare me, not at all
My knees are shaking so I might fall

I love to float upon the water
Everyone is my size smaller

Daddy, now I found something fun
So don’t just lie there in the sun

Come out with me into the sea
Find a nice warm spot and pee

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Jun 18 2004

A Midnight Snack

Published by under Poetry - Funny

Funny Poetry

The open window whispers with curtain weeping
While I leave my bed
A house cat prowls upon the carpet creeping
Startled, I hit my head
Floor boards moan braking my soft socks sneaking
I tiptoe downstairs
And to the quiet kitchen I go a seeking
My toe hits the chair
For my stomach is pour and creaking
It growls to complain
Into the fridge, is where my eyes are peeking
through meat loaf and champaign
Alas, my leftover pizza has started reeking

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