Karen was a zombie pain,
Because she bit into my brain,
Maybe she tried to flirt,
But, her bite really hurt,
Finding love online is insane.
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Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
OF KITES AND KINGS
The reign of kings and dictates of the state,
Their engine speaks without review of choice,
The masses, millions,live from fate to fate,
Their cries are silenced by the nobler voice.
The technocrats, the learned contemplate,
Their, marbled halls and golden domes so grand,
Their seaside towns where they can recreate,
And, celebrate the powers in their hand.
The millions work and let their leaders play;
No land, no strength, no powers can they sight;
The rich man's clout shall rule beyond today;
The poor mans luck goes crashing like a kite.
The kings by choice, they soar above the ground,
By winds and strings the kites drift ever down.
Their engine speaks without review of choice,
The masses, millions,live from fate to fate,
Their cries are silenced by the nobler voice.
The technocrats, the learned contemplate,
Their, marbled halls and golden domes so grand,
Their seaside towns where they can recreate,
And, celebrate the powers in their hand.
The millions work and let their leaders play;
No land, no strength, no powers can they sight;
The rich man's clout shall rule beyond today;
The poor mans luck goes crashing like a kite.
The kings by choice, they soar above the ground,
By winds and strings the kites drift ever down.
NOW THAT DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME HAS ENDED
Now that Daylight Savings Time has ended,
Getting a game of golf in gets me winded,
I use to make my holes last and last,
But, darkness comes so I play fast.
Getting a game of golf in gets me winded,
I use to make my holes last and last,
But, darkness comes so I play fast.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
WHEN SANTA'S JOB IS DONE LIMERICK
On Christmas day Santa sat smoking his pipe,
He had just opened up a can of fresh tripe,
His job was now over,
Until the end of October,
But, Mrs. Claus could work; she could type.
He had just opened up a can of fresh tripe,
His job was now over,
Until the end of October,
But, Mrs. Claus could work; she could type.
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