There was an old man with a hat,
Who was confused and thought it a cat,
So he gave it some meat and milk as a treat,
Then he put it outside for a crap.
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Monthly Archives: May 2015
There was an old man with a hat…
My life is forsook!
I am a Vampire, he said staring at her,
A very old Vampire, you can tell by my skin,
My eyes and expression give also a hint,
While my pointed, sharp teeth give more than a hint.
*
I can see by your skin, he answered, I do,
And also your eyes and expression; it’s true,
But the stare on your face has cast a strange spell,
Making me trust you, despite not feeling well.
*
Still staring at her, the Vampire replied,
You’d never believe me; you’d think I had lied,
If the stare on my face was gone; it’s a fact,
No one would trust this salty old Cat.
*
Without offering her a chance to reply,
The Vampire went on with his horrible lie,
Then, creeping closer and closer on the cold deck,
He pounced, lashed out, and bit her bare neck.
*
Feeling the hurt and the blood running down,
She said, I was such a daft clown,
To have trusted a Vampire because of his look,
Drained of all blood, my life is forsook!
***************
One Golden Groat to spend in the mystical kingdom of Onishia
(see Wot, Nott, Kakuri and the HU BA HOU)
Burn the EU
A penny loaf to feed us,
A farthing cheese to please us.
A glass of water to rinse them down,
A bundle of sticks to burn it.
Burn the reason for our distress,
The flaming EU that caused this mess.
A Life in the Poo
Good times are coming, I know they are near,
The best times, for sure, in a number of years;
I’m counting each day on my fingers and thumbs,
Until the recession has passed and the bad times have gone.
Then, when the money is flowing again,
I will thank those people, both women and men,
Who stood up to the bankers and politicians; it’s true,
That saved us, how they saved us, from a life in the poo.
**********************
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Be Careful What You Wish For
Arnie the apple hung from a tree
in an orchard a mile wide.
And every day the pickers would come
and haul dozens of apples inside.
They’d pick the prettiest of the bunch,
filling their baskets and pails.
But they always passed by Arnie,
ignoring his whines and wails.
“Please pick me!”, Arnie would cry
each time the pickers sauntered by.
“I want to go inside with you!”,
cried Arnie till he turned bright blue.
But the pickers ignored him day after day,
while Arnie hung there in dismay,
trying to nurse his shattered pride,
dying to be picked to be taken inside.
Each new dawn he’d do a trick
like spinning around on his twig.
But the picky pickers never stopped
for apples that weren’t big
or juicy or red or bright or sweet.
Poor Arnie was none of these things.
He wasn’t completely quite full grown
and he had some nicks and dings.
He dreamed what it was like inside;
lights and music all around.
Arnie just wanted to go there so badly
he flung himself to the ground.
The next day the pickers came along
and saw him lying there.
They took him inside and Arnie thought,
“This is it! I’m finally there!”
But when Arnie the Apple looked around
he realized his dreams were false,
’cause in less than 15 minutes
he was Arnie Applesauce.
(C) 1998, Arden Davidson
http://www.angelfire.com/md/byme/pocket.html
It’s Monday!
May no gift be too small to give, nor too simple to receive, which is wrapped in thoughtfulness and tied with love. Good morning! Happy Monday!!
Every morning is a wonderful blessing from God. It stands for hope which gives us another start at what we call Life. Have a good morning and great day! Happy Monday!!
The difference between me and a bear is the thought of you couldn’t make me hibernate for more than 7 hours. Good morning. Happy Monday!
A morning thought, a morning prayer, a morning wish for a good person who makes a good morning for other peoples’ lives. May God bless you always. Happy Monday!!
The breeze has awakened the earth, The sun gave brightness to the earth, Birds gave melodious music to the earth, Then its the time to wish my sweet friend Good morning. Happy Monday.
Sunday
Treating Each Day As A Sunday
A Poem by Nikhil Parekh
God created all seven days of the week alike; to bask
in the glory of Nature’s bountiful endowment and
enjoy,
It was man who embraced a festoon of spurious
idiosyncrasies; frolicking in the aisles of divinely
heaven only on a Sunday; while he perspired worse
than a dog; on all other days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to
poignantly blend with the mesmerizing beauty of this
colossal Universe,
It was man who murdered himself with his own framework
of rules; celebrating only on a Sunday; while he
tossed and squirmed like an insipid worm; all other
days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to
majestically fulfill your duties; let the enchanting
stream of shimmering moonlight; pacify you beyond
eternal times,
It was man who disdainfully messed up life with
manipulative business; ruling like an unconquerable
king on a Sunday; while he literally licked the dust
of the roads; on all other days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to
philanthropically march ahead with all living kind;
soar through the crimson clouds with a desire to be
triumphant glittering in your eyes,
It was man who coined tyrannical definitions of his
own; rejoiced and hugged his family only on a Sunday;
while critically lambasting them with his frustration;
on all other days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to dance
in the aisles of uninhibited freedom; benevolently
assist your ailing mates in inexplicable pain,
It was man who acted more insanely than the
devastatingly insane; adventuring through the hills
only on a Sunday; while he compellingly measured each
of his nonchalant footsteps; on all other days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to test
your true mettle on this planet; celestially sleep in
synergy with the unveiling of the gloriously star
studded night,
It was man who profoundly consulted the heinous devil;
tossing his children only on a Sunday; while kicking
them in the uncouth world outside to earn their own
bread; on all other days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to
rhapsodically inhale the scent of roses; romance and
disseminate the gift of love; as each night descended
by,
It was man who savagely chopped his own feet with his
axe; feeling the richest man alive only on a Sunday;
while he spat irrevocably on his own treasury of
brilliant fortune; on all other days…
God created all seven days of the week alike; to
explore and unite with all the exotically wonderful
organisms wandering on mother earth,
It was man who wanted to consume knives instead of
supper; wholeheartedly unleashing his heart out only
on a Sunday; while he jailed himself and his comrades
together in a jail of claustrophobic despair; on all
other days….
And if you couldn’t listen to God; I know for sure you
would never listen to me; even if I quit life to tell
you; to live life like a king; each day of the week,
Don’t worry I have better alternatives still; you
remain blessed writhing like a commercial commodity
all your lives; while I was definitely the wealthiest
man alive; treating each day as a Sunday.
The Crazymad Writer 