Obliterating Any Semblance

I apologize to my family for trampling on their graves.

It’s true if I win the Nobel prize 

I’ll melt it into a knife and start killing people

But there was already a band called Rancid 

so I don’t know what else to do with myself.

The giant baking squirrel

I was mad when the bakery hired a giant squirrel to help with the baking. Partially it was because of how strict the sanitation guidelines were, and how we had to wear gloves and wipe down counters constantly, and everyone knew the giant squirrel just woke up from inside his sequoia cavern, hopped on the bus, and showed up to start scooping muffin batter. One day he looked me in the eye, tried to put on the gloves, and showed me how the plastic just ripped on his paws. Then he started scooping muffin batter beside me, daring me to call DHEC.  I didn’t.  To tell you the truth, I was so tired of the cleaning standards that I was happy to have someone to blame.

After a few weeks, I started offering the squirrel some of my ration of free muffins because I knew that he needed more food.  Finally I suggested to the boss that we make whole cakes instead.  She said we could make lemon loaf cakes.

 

I kept working like normal but at break time I saw the squirrel crying in the breakroom as he ate one of the lemon loaf cakes. I gave him all the loaf cakes in my bag and from then on only took home the almond croissants.

 

The giant squirrel is now assistant manager of the bakery and we have stores in 51 states and  30 different countries.  Animals and humans are working in harmony and lemon loaf cakes are the national food at the space station.  Our country recently received threats from an alien society, and the giant squirrel sent a letter and said, let’s try sending them some lemon loaf cakes. I did not tell anyone how proud I felt, but I know the squirrel knows that I know he knows.

Slime rhyme

Fighting your own weaknesses expose an inner beast
That sometimes gets the better of your life to say the least.
 
But as you build your strength to win that constant fearful war
The other foes who swarm the earth will also live no more.

Candy Necklace Poem

 

Worth words

I like that daffodils poem by wordsworth
And tried to teach high school English
So other people would also understand,
But what can I say, it didn’t go well.
Everyone in fourth period needed a bathroom break
And a teacher from the coven in the main building
Found my joke crucible test on the copier 
And got me fired.
So that’s why I lost my job I guess,
Or something else I cant figure out
No matter how oft upon my couch I lie.
Maybe my students wouldn’t get that joke
But what is one lost reference
From a poet in the wrong field.

Poem

When I am the pope,
I am going to make Lent be Fat Tuesday,
And Mardis Gras last for forty days.

Re: Production

 

Ronald Hoover looked in the mirror and adjusted his tie.  He winked at himself and smoothed his hair.  He had changed his clothes three times now, not because he couldn’t decide what to wear, but because he liked looking at himself in different outfits.

After one final glance, he walked out the door and drove to the grocery store.  He wasn’t planning to buy anything, but instead was going to check out all the pasta sauces.

First, he found the sauces that he had tried before, and read the ingredients list on the back of each one.  Then he wandered over to see what was in the cream sauces.  Most of the ingredients were what he expected, but he did not know how preservatives and manufacturing affected each final product.

Ronald was researching the pasta sauces because of the idea he had for a company, and he knew that the product needed to be familiar.  In a way, it could have been anything, because his true dream was about the company itself.  Ronald Hoover’s plan was to clone himself and start a company made of workers who were all him and him alone.

He decided to go ahead and buy a few of the sauces, added some boxes of pasta to his armful of groceries, and went to check out.  He looked across the checkout lines and imagined if all of the workers were essentially the same person.  It made him feel a sense of urgency, like a need to hurry and achieve his dream before anyone else thought of it.

 

The next week, he met with the cloning team at the science lab associated with his old college, and he told them his plan.  They said that they could actually produce thirty duplicates of himself within just a few weeks.  But they also said, “how do you know they will all be willing to work for you?”  

“They will simply have to,” Ronald said.  “I will give them a legal document stating that they signed a contract previously.  And I will sign that contract myself right before they are cloned, so it will be true!”

The scientists smirked.  This was exactly what they had signed up for when they had endeavored to clone people.

 

The process was easy.  Ronald literally cut a lock of his hair and gave it to a scientist, and two weeks later, a bus full of himself drove up to the new warehouse and office building that he had bought for his company. 

The clones talked to each other loudly, some of them raising questions about the contract.  Ronald handed each of them a random envelope assigning them their job at the new company.  Some would be salespeople, some would be factory workers, and a chosen few would be vice presidents and corporate strategists.  Within days, the different Ronalds were showing up to work and clocking in. 

Mostly the Ronalds got along well for a while, but some had questions. “Why are we all named Ronald?” one Ronald asked.  “Why are we all the same person?” another one said. “I’m gay,” said one Ronald, and indicated that he liked one of the other coworker Ronalds. 

“I don’t believe in that,” said that Ronald. He then chased after a dame at their bingo group, but she liked one of the other Ronalds.

Some of the Ronalds started a union and tried to leverage their work for higher salaries.  There was plenty of money for it, because the company was very successful.  But the competition among workers was still a problem.  Some of the factory workers showed up in the board room one day, pretending to be the head bosses.  They agreed to give the whole company a week off and a budget for vacations.  By that time, the original Ronald was very tired, so he agreed.

He took off to a tropical island away from all the other Ronalds.  While he was there, he met a bartender named Lisa, who talked to him about his work.

“It’s just a mess,” he told her.  “I don’t know what to do.”

Lisa smiled and listened and said, “Wow, you really have worked hard in life, and I would almost say thirty times as much as most people.  I think I have some ideas of what could help you.  Also, I love you, Ronald.”

Ronald married Lisa and she shared her ideas for the company with him.  Her main idea was to clone herself thirty times as well, so all the Ronalds could each marry a Lisa.  Everyone thought it was a great idea, so they all did in fact marry their own Lisa and moved away to start new pasta sauce companies with regular workers.  The original Ronald also hired a variety of people to replace his selfish crew, or rather, his crew of selves. The pasta products, however, remained the same at all the companies. After all, it was a family recipe.

Strategy Games

The sci-fi movies show the monsters raging in the clouds,
And dragons flying through a war attacking violent crowds.

But demons go away from kinder gentler forms of strength;
It's service, love and faith that makes you go to any length.
So though you want to bravely slay the snake that flies above you
The greatest way you'll fight it is to smile and say I love you.

Your Fault

go awol on your mission in the army of rudeness

default on your loan of harrassment

declare bankruptcy in your economy of hatred

leave your spouse of bigotry at the altar

be bad at what you are bad about.

it’s the good you didn’t think of.

ET poem

My grandmother always did remind me of 

 

ET the Extra Terrestrial.

 

Just her face, really, and her grayness.

 

Honestly I can’t say for sure that she wasn’t ET.

 

Memories aren’t that reliable,

 

They kind of are slippery in the mind,

 

Like ET, and like my grandmother.

 

When I get to heaven,

 

I won’t know what to say at certain occasions.

 

Do I say, Grandmother, I missed you.

 

Or ET, I knew it was you.

 

That doesn’t mean I pray to ET,

 

Or to my grandmother.

 

That is another thing 

 

that ET and my grandmother have in common.

 

I do not pray to either one of them,

 

And I don’t scatter Reeses Pieces in the backyard

 

To try to lure them both back to earth.

 

I don’t believe in that, 

 

though if I ever saw two ETs at one time,

 

I would almost assume that one of them

 

Was my grandmother.

 

Something confusing is to watch the movie ET 

 

At Christmastime.

 

Because my grandmother used to visit us on Christmas,

 

So is she really there?

 

Or is it just a movie?

 

You can say it is just a movie,

 

But why would I pretend not to know my own grandmother?

Maybe some readers don’t want to read a good poem

Maybe they want to read this poem.

 

That just says hello and then 

 

Trails off at the end with no meaning.

Poem Lesson

Not all poems have to be a zinga zing zang.

 

A ringa rang rang

 

And a glass full of tang.

 

Some poems might just want to flop,

 

Like a lop that hops to Stop and Shop.

 

For instance, this is a poem asking 

 

The government for a pet rabbit 

 

And a checkered suitcase

 

Full of magic marbles.

poem

 Today's sermon is entitled,

I guess it's all just a crapshoot

Animal Behavior

God’s going to commit suicide when he reads my poems.

 

He’s not going to believe some of the ideas I thought of.

 

That one that says, 

 

“dessert first, that’s my rule, dessert last, also cool,

 

He’s going to say, “Why isn’t this in the bible?”

 

He’s going to write a new bible that says more about guinea pigs and other rodents.

 

He’s going to say, this is why I sent my son to die on the cross,

 

For this very reason,

 

And then he’s going to create a new rule

 

Even stricter than the golden rule,

 

And it will be called the platinum rule,

 

Where you cant say anything

 

Without first eating a plate of tarts

 

And a mug of hot chocolate,

 

And then go to the mall

 

To buy a blanket 

 

for every groundhog

 

disguised as a friend.

 Poem

 

What if Judgement Day is organized

According to the high schools people went to

And it is like a battle of the bands

With points and scoreboards

 

 

Poem

 

You know how they have those churches

That are modern and are called things like

The Edge, or the Verve, or such and such?

What if there was a ministry called “Bullcrap.”

 

“Hey we missed you at Bullcrap last week.”

God knows that trick

 
when the grocery store is collecting pop tarts 
for the homeless shelter,
don't say,
"I wish I was poor."
Just buy yourself some pop tarts some time
and try to keep a job.
 
At church, don't make fun of that lady with the head tremor
by pretending you have a head tremor.
Just nod a little bit when the preacher says something about Jesus.
 
I mean, my Gosh, 
 
not everyone can work in a Tic Tac factory
and watch movies about rodents on their lunch break.
If you want gallbladder surgery,
then damage your gallbladder.
It all adds up if you multiply by eleven.

Priority Seating

People riding on the train

Some are crazy, some are sane

Who knows where they’re going now

Or when or why or what or how

But when I close my eyes I see

All that matters is not me

Jesus is the mourning star

 

Jesus rises in the east

Or in the west or where its best

Or where its worst or where its first

Or where there’s people who are cursed.

 

He spins the worlds that heaven holds

And heals the cruelest winter colds

And tells the darkness it must hide

And says he knows that people lied

 

He takes the poems that have no truth

And writes them in the book of ruth

And takes the art that shouldn’t be

And makes a better mystery.

 

He says I know you didn’t care

Except your heart is truly there

And that is why the angels fly

In God’s own glory of the sky.

Anger in the hands of a sinner’s God

 

They say we hang by just a thread

But that will sometimes cause me dread

When people need salvation fast

And I am scared they will not last

 

I feel the pressure for their case

And think the thread is my own face

And anything I say and do

Is how God chooses who is who.

 

With stuff all hinging on my life

And what I say to solve their strife

So then they tell me their demands

That cause me shackles, traps and bands

 

But that is simply not my job

To say who has to wail and sob

So next time I’ll refer them where

Our God will let me just not care.

poem

I think something 
people would not expect
Is if bomber planes
dropped a bunch of 

ploughshares on a country

Pizza for One

God is treating himself

To some correct regard in my mind today.
Some perception of him as a nice God.
A good giver who cares about my life.
A creative director who thought of some 
funny mental health adventures.
Some life that I had a say in or didn’t,
As I also treat myself to a frozen pizza,
Which was just what God knew I wanted.

Muggle Hugs

flash mob of dementors

Blocking the grocery store

The cash register connects

To the dark web

please remove card

Do not remove card

Transaction complete

Transaction canceled

Please remove card

Get on your knees and beg

Or we will admit

God hates us.

A C in Racism

I'm not KKK.

I'm not MLK.

I'm just A-OK.

Interview

Would you say that life is so complicated,

the only words left with any meaning are slurs?

 

Not necessarily. Some food is still what it is, like an orange.

 

What do you mean by that?

 

I mean the next fall of man will probably be from an orange.

 

Hmm. Fascinating.

 

Do you mean fascinating like a book, 

or fascinating like a piece of green diareah stuck to the toilet bowl?

 

I don’t know.  Let’s move on. 

I guess my next question is, would you rather go to heaven

Or have a chance to slap every single person who has ever existed?

 

Well I guess we don’t know that’s not what heaven is.

Like just slapping people.

 

Is that how you interpret the Bible?

 

I don’t think this poem is in the bible.

Christmas Pines Song for the Deluded

“If hopes be dupes, then fears may be liars”
 -Arthur Hugh Clough

 

You can’t hide from Christmas Day, it will find you.

And the presents that you get, will remind you

 

Of the many years before of more delusions,

Being crushed on Christmas day, in confusion.

 

Finding out that those you liked don’t like you back,

And at dinner hiding grief for what you lack.

 

So you try to stay in bed or take a walk,

Hoping time will pass you by and you won’t stalk.

 

But the day will run you over like a truck

Even though you thought that life would never suck

 

If the pain just hurts again then you can pray

For the other people also not okay.

 

And you know that in the million years to follow

There’s a love that heals all hearts still feeling hollow

 

So please stay alive and wait for nicer times now

Even though that no one really knows how

 

It is true that there’s a hope so real it blinds you

And I pray that better Christmas Days will find you.

poem

What if someone told you
that you had pre-traumatic stress disorder
and then ran you over with their car?

Wishing Well Poem

 

Arcades,

 

Laundromats,

 

Slot Machines,

 

Gumball Dispensers,

 

Or just a magic trick on an elbow.

 

I think I'll choose 

 

the plunk in the fountain

 

and a prayer to say

 

I wish you well.

just a little joke

what if there was a new ride at Disney World 

called Journey into Tomorrow’s Problems 

and it is one of those simulation rides 

and they shake everyone violently and spray acid on them

two poems about the same topic

 prayers for the well

 

doesn't every girl want to be the dame in the movie who faints,

and every guy the wounded soldier being tended to?

I will not take for granted 

that things I took for granted are gone.

Between winces and sighs,

and sinces and whys,

I'll defiantly spend my credit

that surely I get for this pain

on praying up some blessings 

for the ones not sick but sane.

For everyone still living life and sinning and forgiving

I'll use my tears and pained arears

to bless the lands of living.

Why not? As thank you prayers

for when I was like that too,

with wishes, wants, and hopes, and cares,

and begged for dreams come true.

So now when nightmares haunt me here

and health is shaky, filled with fear,

I'll keep in mind requests for all

who find their life an easy call

Why shouldn't they each get a boost

from prayers that no one thought be loosed

Some coins are for the pinball games,

to ease the loss of health and names.

but some are going straight in wells

for all the well, til heaven's hell

and we are singing, well well well.

 

Prayer Power

 

"pray for my mom, she's crying and dying,"

well you should know without me lying

That God must hear the most from those

who suffer pains while in repose

So patient, I will say to thee

That she should think to pray for me.

Lines at the Grocery Store

 

Buying a box of cereal you don't like, just to punish yourself.

 

Then committing any crime, so as to confuse everyone on Judgement Day.

 

Why not just steal the box of cereal, some may ask.

 

Why not indeed. Except a brand you like which is Frosted Flakes.

 

It can be stolen retroactively if you spend your righteousness credit

on asking God to take away other people's blessings.

 

I guess good theology is hard to come by,

 

And that is why ad slogans can work just as well 

 

if the slogan says something like:

 

buy a can of raid be gone or sing a song to get along,

that's where the cookies come from.

 

Your total is 50 dollars and 99 sins.