Scribbles
Page 2
Better or Worse
It Could Be Better
It Could Be Worse
At Least I’m Not Horizontal
In A Box In The Dirt
I don’t know what the hell you say.
But, you keep on saying it every day.
Hip Hop, Bip Bop
Need to pick my nose
And make a pit stop.
Tomatoes, Potatoes, Spinach and Broccoli
What the hell rhymes with Broccoli?
I got it.
Tomatoes, Potatoes, Spinach and Broccoli
I ate my veggies and played monopoly.
I tried to make a poem about an Irish Setter
And realized the subject matter could be better
I tried to make a new rhyme and before I started
I held my nose and broccoli farted
Embarrassed as I was it could have been worse
At least I’m not horizontal in a box in the dirt
Worker Whore
In days of old the rich were bold
And enslaved people in pursuit of gold
Today is much the same
The time clock has replaced the chain
The rich get richer
The poor get poorer
The ruling class remains
We’ve been taught
That happiness
Is something bought
If your life’s pursuit
Is from a store
You’re just another
Worker whore
People Outside Sit
People Outside Sit
With Sweatshirts On
Money And Tech
Their Only God
Winter’s Coming
Like An Easy Song
It Will Be Here
Before Too Long
Shorter Days
Longer Nights
To Me It Just Doesn’t
Feel Right
There’s Nothing Worse
Than Dark And Cold
Is This Your Heart
As You Grow Old
Bright Son
Will Always Shine
If You Let Him In
One More Time
Heads Down
Eyes To Screens
Life Goes By
No one Screams
Interaction Remiss
Except to Exclaim
“Look At This”
You Can Change
If You Have The Will
Or Meet The Maker
With Darkness Still
The Path Is Yours
For You To Choose
You Have One Soul
To Win Or Lose
When I Stand
Before The Gates
I Hope The Son’s Light
Is On My Face
Enjoy The Earth
All Around
Or Sit And Rot
Tether Bound
Snakebite Venom Bitch
Snake bite, venom bitch
You poisoned my heart and threw it in a ditch.
Even though I hate you now
You stick to me like a festering itch.
Our love was so hot and strong
Passionate, wet and sticky, all night long.
Ocean motion, oil and lotion
We used it all with love’s emotion.
Never before had I been so high
As when we made love, like rockets in the sky.
Snake bite, venom bitch
You blackened my soul and threw it in a ditch.
Even though I hate you now
You stick to me like a festering itch.
I knew you were all I’d ever need
With you I’d breed, and sow my seed.
My love for you was so strong and wild
Until I learned you aborted my child.
You killed my son before he could age
So I killed you back, in a fit of rage.
Snake bite, venom bitch
You broke my mind and threw it in a ditch.
Even though I hate you now
You stick to me like a festering itch.
Now I sit in the county pen
You lie in the ground, stone cold dead.
Snake bite, venom bitch
You poisoned me and threw me in a ditch.
Even though I hate you now
You stick to me like a festering itch.
Snake bite, venom bitch
You poisoned my heart and threw it in a ditch.
You stick to me like a festering itch.
I hate you now
You bitch
I hate you now
I hate you
I loved you
I hate you
Bitch
Mr. Christmas Toad
In a small swamp pond
Not far from here
Lived an energetic toad
Fond of females, dancing and beer
On a chilly fall morning
While lamenting the first frost
He decided to leave New Hampshire
No matter the cost
It’s time to sleep
In the mud down deep
His fellow toads implored
Get down here quick
So you’ll keep warm
Stay here with us Mr. Christmas toad
You’ll freeze to death by the side of the road
He packed some flies and crickets
In an old rucksack
Found a snowbirds’ pickup
And climbed in back
Mr. Christmas Toad
Tooled down the road
As the snow fell around
For Florida he was bound
He nearly froze to death
Traveling through New York
He curled up tight between
An old blanket and a box of sporks
He arrived in the warmth
And none too soon
He met a new girlfriend
And proceeded to spoon
They made love all winter long
Wild and passionate gentle and strong
On the beach and in the back of cars
During the bright daylight and under twinkling stars
In the spring they hitched a ride north in a new mini-van
Mr. and Mrs. Christmas returned to New Hampshire to raise their clan
They enjoyed life as other toads did
And raised their brood of ten thousand kids
Not Christmas
It doesn't feel much like Christmas this year
I know I'd feel better if you were here
It's the 24th of December, but I'm still stuck in May
It was a beautiful sunny morning on that fateful day
That's when I heard you'd laid down your life for people to be free
All I could do was weep and think how you're lost to me
They said you were brave and another life you saved
And I should be proud
Those words echo in my mind so loud
Of course I'm proud that you were brave as you could be
It just doesn't feel like Christmas to me
About the Author
I sincerely hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed creating it.
I currently work and live in the wonderful state of New Hampshire. I enjoy hunting, fishing, hiking, kayaking, motorcycle riding and a good beer in the company of friends.
Other completed works I currently have available on the world wide web: “A Farmer’s Chronicle” and “Mower Death Kill: The Hardwood Incident”.