Pseudo Intellectual - 2012/03/23

I was given an assignment
That I sat down and wrote
Though the subject at hand
Never received my yea vote

So I decided to change it
Indulging in my creativity
Forgetting that I am a tool
Lacking actual sensitivity

To clearly judge qualities
Embodied in the end result
Meaning could somebody tell
It was written by an adult

It matters not to this ego
For I am smarter than you
If you disagree with this
You clearly lack any clue

Sadly the truth is very sad
As the work I wrote was bad
Is the audience overtly mad
Or will they label me a cad

This baby needs his bottle
Shall somebody go fetch it
Returning ready to wipe up
This nasty mess of my shit

Na na na na na na boo boo
Stick your hand in doo doo
Squish it
Squash it
Now you gotta wash it


Doo Doo House - 2012/03/18

I clearly remember the house
On the narrow dead end street
It was the most boring place
Though I was full of conceit

Yes there were some crosswords
Littered with Grandmas writing
The easy ones were left empty
Yet too hard and not exciting

They had a riding lawn mower
Which sometimes we got to take
Well until I leaped right off
Without first setting the brake

Sometimes they burned rubbish
In a big pile far far out back
Beyond that was a little creek
And a few miles of wooded track

Later there was a room of candy
Housing goodies to draw my eyes
Though they never gave me much
I grew to be one of the fat guys

Of course they had a television
I remember that useless antique
It never reached its potential
With no games of which to speak

There were some very nice trees
Where I tied a bottle with rope
Filled in it with spigot water
And swung at it like a mad dope

Twas this Doo Doo house I knew
I hold it close and quite dear
For it seems less and less bad
With each and every passing year


Matriarch - 2012/03/14

Drift back to the year of 1932
Then a tumultuous time for all
In the midst of the Depression
Soon ended by wars deadly call

Past trepidation and confusion
Life marched on with no respite
Interrupted by the special birth
We are here to celebrate tonight

So much of what we take for granted
Is but a part of this gift she gave
She fought to teach us to be better
Even while we schemed to misbehave

She has given of herself for years
Through acts of love and sacrifice
Still ever willing to lend her hand
Or offer shrewd and tempered advice

Sharp as a tack from dawn to dusk
Putting most of her peers to shame
Say what you shall of Joan Konopka
Except to lie and declare her lame

If it was visible she has seen it
Growing wiser while living the tale
Born in a time of vacuum tube radios
Evolving to instant worldwide email

Though she wants nothing in return
Tonight we need not pay it any mind
Take the time to tell her thank you
Sharing a story if you are inclined


Crow - 2012/03/04

Wings spreading
Gliding in the sky
Flapping with a fury
Rising to a new high
Crying out of anguish
Echoes heard for miles
By those harboring fear
Or with haphazard smiles

Freedom is on the wind
Propelled by the forces
Of tired ebony harbinger
Who spies our mad courses
Neither warning or whisper
Simply some recognition of
That regardless of outlook
Somebody watches from above

Power bequeathed by fools
Always awaiting any scraps
While launching their alms
To a god up high that flaps
Though we are but mere tools
In vast array of possibility
Derelict crows alone carry on
By any measure of probability