Tag: humor

Facebook Changed Again

Facebook Changed Again

It looks like Facebook’s changed again
They went and rearranged it when
They could have left it as it was
Instead of changing just because.

It doesn’t really matter if it’s good
We all know it’s understood
That soon enough they’ll change again
And we’ll just have to wait till then.

Flip the Pillow

Flip the Pillow

As sure as feathers find their billowing inside a pillow case.
I have to flip the pillow, find a freshness on my face.
When a surface underneath my head is growing all too warm,
I cannot simply sleep there without waking to transform

The temperature I rest on into something much more cool.
Turning over both the temperature and tiny bits of drool,
I gladly stick my face inside the cooler feathers found.
A new coolness on my cheek allows my slumber to be sound.

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The Phantom Stair

The Phantom Stair

At the top of every stair case
Is a step that I don’t see
And sometimes I don’t change my pace
But climb on blissfully

To a phantom stair that isn’t there.
I’m unsuspended in the air.
My foot falls down to find it’s pair
Passing through the phantom stair.

And where the staircase meets the ground
A second phantom stair is found.
I stumble as these ghosts abound,
On all the stairs I find around.

Going Out To Have You Do The Dishes

Going out to dinner have you do the dishes

There’s something satisfying in a home cooked meal.
Although that is my preference, a restaurant has appeal
As they bring me out my dinner and grant my every wish
And when I’m finished eating, I don’t clean a single dish.

When you’re driving next to me

When you’re driving next to me.

I feel as if I’m hexed to
Avoid the man I’m next to
Although part of me would see
Who it is that’s next to me.

I think I cut him off about a half a mile back.
I’d much rather avoid him and his audible attack.
If I slow though, he will slow, so know I’ve found the need for speed
But he mirrors me and it fears me since I can’t get a good read

On “who is this guy,” and why would he try to annoy me so much
When I’d rather lose him, turn and confuse him and such
To avoid these paranoid scenarios
That won’t even compare to those
Random experiences I have in real life.
I decide to look over and see my wife.

Happy “What” Day?

Happy “What” day?

Why not have a greeting card holiday
Where greeting card companies rule the way
We act towards each other
By giving another
Pre-expressed greeting that we can relay.
Otherwise how would we know what to say?

What Makes Kids Behave in Church.

What Makes Kids Behave in Church.

“Why is it your children behave well in church
They sit quietly on that wooden pew perch
As if their stone statues, the saints of today,
Why won’t my kids start behaving that way?”

Taken aback by the question at hand,
I answered her question so she’d understand
Why my children will listen all throughout mass
With only a question or two that they pass

From their sweet little lips to fatherly ear,
And with whispers I answer each question I hear.
In fact as a father I relish the task
Growing fearful myself with each question they ask.

“Dad, how do they make the stained glass?”
“Good Question son, I don’t mean to be crass,
But they find little boys who won’t sit and behave,
Find their bright colored toys and give them a shave.

They take these toy shavings from primary toys,
Melt them down into windows, so stop making noise.”
I’m never real sure of the questions he brings
But I’ve gotten quite good at explaining these things.

“Why do those singers keep singing so bad?”
“‘Cause God took the beautiful voices they had.
They were talking to loud during church one day,
when they should have been kneeling to quietly pray.”

“How come the other kids are eating cheerios?”
“They get one meal a week and that’s it I suppose.”
“What’s with people passing a basket full of money,
is it to take a rainy day and make it sunny?”

“You have to give up your allowance if you don’t eat all your veggies
Or they’ll hang you on the wall and you’ll have eternal wedgies
Like those statues of the saints that are wedged up on the wall
All because they didn’t eat when vegetables would call.”

The one that takes the cake though is the shark tank that they’ll fill
If they find out there’s a little boy in church that can’t sit still.
Don’t make me take you back there or the sharks might be released.
They’ll smell out misbehavior and have a cry-room feast.

Drive Me to Think

Drive Me to Think.

If you drive me to drink, I won’t drive.
If you cause me to think I won’t thrive.
The intellect sedation
in our stumbling conversation
suggests to me our wit will not survive.

Survival of the fittest won’t apply
Beer guts will be attached until we die
We’ll drink down to the dregs
Turn our six packs into kegs
Then pander life and liberty, or try.