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. 

poem

what if you ran 80 miles

and then saw

that the finish line

was a wall of flame

Killer Comedy and the Comedy Killer

Francisco was a comedian in the very populated metro region of the south north quadrant.  His shows had been getting more consistent, and he had a steady income from selling CDs and teaching some workshops.  Most of his jokes were about dating, and office work, or funny things about relatives and awkward conversations.  One night, in the middle of a show, he suddenly thought of a new joke and just blurted it out with no planning.

            “What if someone was born with clothes on?” he said, standing at the mike while the audience roared laughing.  The joke’s appreciative reception was as unexpected as the joke itself. Francisco started riffing on it, creating a wave of humor for the laughter to surf on. “It’s like, okay, do you wash the clothes on the baby, or what.  Like is the baby just supposed to always have clothes on?”  One guy in the middle of the comedy club was laughing harder than everyone.  Francisco continued.  “And do you tell people? Like if they say what a cute outfit, do you say, “thanks, it’s from that store downtown, called Miracle Baby.” Francisco kept thinking of more to say. “Wouldn’t you feel guilty if you had a baby shower and some people would like know that the baby already had an outfit, like the muppets, like Ernie and Bert who wear the same shirt every day?”

            The guy laughing so hard in the middle of the crowd could not stop laughing.  He was keeled over, clutching his stomach, drooling.  His girlfriend next to him slowed her laughing and started to look concerned.  A few other people nearby also seemed in distress, but mostly able to calm down.  Francisco saw him but decided to go for one final punch. “It’s like, okay, so much for hand me downs, you know?”

            This is when the drooling guy fell off his chair, and was suddenly motionless.  He had died laughing.  Some people came to his side and tried to call for medical attention.  Many people still could not control themselves laughing and just left the comedy club. 

            Francisco watched from the stage, started to feel an odd feeling of pride, with some serious bafflement, but then smirked to himself, left the stage, and sat in a back room feeling a sense of power that he felt he had waited for all his life. “I was born for this,” he thought to himself, laughing, hesitating to make sure he would not die from his own joke, and then leaving to go home.

            The joke became part of his routine, and because he toured all around from city to city, people didn’t realize there was a pattern happening when someone would die at every show.  

            “I’m a freakin’ serial killer,” thought Francisco, and then wondered if he could work that idea into the routine some. 

            Finally, at one of the shows as Francisco started talking about what kind of outfit a kid could be born in, like would it have a whale on the pocket or do you make the kid keep wearing the hat and socks or not, people started to lose control like usual.  But a heckler stood up and started giving Francisco trouble.  “Hey man, what we are wondering is what kind of outfit you’re going to jail in,” said the guy standing up.  Some FBI agents then came on stage and took Francisco to the station for questioning. The heckler walked up behind the microphone and said, “This isn’t funny to me.  I was born with clothes on.”

pretty funny

what are we going to say

when we get to heaven

and it's just Jesus 

sitting at a typewriter.

the innocence and the competency

What is needed is magic water to break a spell.

 

Antifa has to sign your social work license 

 

or you can’t be a Christian counselor.

 

You think it’s Africa but it’s Mars

 

You think it’s them but it’s us

 

Trump is going to put Andrew Jackson 

 

On every bill

 

which works out

 

If it means he has to pay for it all.

 

what is a jubilee

 

If not an explosion

 

Of jelly beans on easter.

two new poems

plan

I am going to copyright

blue rectangles

so that anyone who uses

that shape in a drawing

has to pay me 50 dollars.

 

 

Literary Edition

 

I think a good alternate title

for the Bible could have been

"A Very Special Whale"

because of the part in the story

with Jonah and the giant fish.

gibberish

people are saying "one smooth stone."

 

that was so sweet.

 

thanks conspiracy

 

thanks bean pod factory senders

 

if you were on square 9 in any september

 

then you have just won the flatch ratchet skill flag marble.

 

They said don't say any more poems

 

if what you are really trying to do

 

is a math problem.

 

That is a good idea.

 

To just say

 

the answer is 938 plus a repeating fraction,

 

and then let God think of the math problem

 

at some other time in history.

 

So you can say 

 

you were right all along

 

and a mathematician.

 

And maybe some people didn't think of that trick,

 

but still had a phone number,

 

or a sight of green leaves,

 

and their life turns out okay.

"Don't argue with God's decretive will."

Something I have always found crazy

is how there aren't many potpourri scents

called "electrical fire."