A Kleenex Box

A Kleenex box in flowers bold

Upon the toilet resting there;

And one fluffy white to grab hold,

While one more pops in place to share.

Pop, pop, pop goes the Kleenex box,

Followed after by newer tissues;

And pop, pop, pop, this really rocks,

This dispenser so softly issues.

For issues are what it’s all about;

Pop, pop, pop, they’ll wipe away.

Yes, Kleenex tissues have no doubt,

Will get you through a snotty day.

A Nipple Tweaker

A nipple tweaker has J Lo;

I'm not kidding, I saw it on TV!

With her entourage he goes -

Man that's something to be!

How much would a job like that pay?

What qualifications do you need?

Soft hands I'd have to say

And perhaps long fingers to knead.

Now my hands are a little rough,

And my fingers may be a tad short,

But I have been working on some stuff

And for this job I'll gladly report.

Oh yes, I've been working out,

Exercising these fingers non-stop.

Yes Jennifer, I have no doubt,

As a tweaker, I'm the cream of the crop.

So call me Jen, we'll do lunch,

And your nipples I'll make them perk.

Yes, a great team I have a hunch,

And with you I'd love to work.

Bridge's Burned

I met a man form out of state

Who seemed to be a bit on edge;

Filled he was with so much hate,

And from the past what he would dredge.

“Get over it.” I’d often say.

“Take a break, what’s done is done.”

But attention, do you think he’d pay?

Man, the dude was some kind of fun.

What a downer to be around,

And so it was I got away;

But then I saw a girl he’d found

And I thought he might be okay.

So I introduced myself, you know,

And very nice she seemed to be;

But I had to think she must be slow,

If his hatred she couldn’t see.

And so I asked him how he’d been

When suddenly he began to curse,

And then it was I began to glean,

The nice young lady was his nurse.

And how he hated me that I learned,

In that moment of our greeting,

Which reminded me of bridge’s burned,

And why the hell was I repeating?

My War is on the Ground Grunting

My war is on the ground grunting,

In jungles deep and dark trooping;

And this enemy I'm hunting

Is me - and there'll be no duping.

For it's upon this trail I've marched,

Slogging foot sore, wearing full gear;

And through the thick brush my throat parched,

I've given chase to all I fear.

And in the fire fights I have fought,

Pitched battles with weapons blazing;

Defying death and jungle rot,

All I've learned is most amazing.

Yes on the ground where I'm grunting,

In between fear and boredom caught;

I've learned battles not the hunting

Are the way to survive my thought.

The Enemy Lies Within

The enemy lies within

Seems somewhat apropos,

So a new poem I will begin,

Because of such things I know.

Like the Hun across the Solent,

Or Gooks behind every tree;

The enemy within has spent

Forever it seems fighting me.

And all our battles won and lost,

That damn enemy within,

You have no idea how it’s crossed,

And how often I have given in.

Its Rebel yell I hear it still,

Forever marching toward my shore,

And though surrender I never will,

I’m not sure I can win the war.

All My Clouds

I am off to the gym

On this day dreary and dim

Yes perhaps a good workout

Will rid me of my doubt

For negative thoughts are mine

All my clouds in a dark line

Until this is my all

My world around in squall.

Drowning in a sea of grey

To the gym I’ll make my way

And these clouds I will lift

To myself I’ll give this gift

Yes these clouds I’ll shoo

And again I will see blue

Opening up in bright skies

When alas I exercise

But to get out the door

Drowning in this downpour

Is just the hardest thing

When my clouds won’t take wing

But beneath these clouds you bet

To that gym I will get

Come hell or high water

Like a lamb to slaughter

The Weatherman

“You don’t need a weatherman,” said Bob Dylan.

“To know which way the wind is blowin’ “

But to keep going, God willin’,

A wing and a prayer are worth knowin’.

Times are changin’, times are tough,

The wind in your face blows with scorn;

Out on the trail from bluff to bluff,

You ride headlong into the storm.

There ain’t no weatherman foolin’ you,

Dark clouds ahead are all you see,

And in the storm you’re pickin’ through,

Life now, ain’t what it used to be.

The weatherman’s promise long since gone,

Upon your back is all you own,

But in the storm you carry on,

To the four winds tossed, all alone.

Yep, you don’t need a weatherman

To tell you which way the wind is blowin’,

When a wing and a prayer goddamn

Are your only cards left showin’

Happy Valentine’s

You know a mushy guy am I,

Here upon this Valentine’s Day;

And for some heartfelt words I’ll try,

Waxing poetic I dare say.

With my love bursting forth you know,

Across these pages where I’ll gush;

So struck by Cupid and his arrow,

Loving words from my pen will rush.

Now ‘Roses are red’ comes to mind,

And ‘Violets are blue’ are all I’ve got;

But surely something more I can find -

Come on Cupid give me your best shot.

For your arrow placed is my muse,

Strike my heart you must dear Cupid;

Till my love poems and their reviews,

Call me romantic instead of stupid.

When Words Are All You’ve Got

When words are all you’ve got

And you know it’s not enough,

But still you take a shot

And hope you’re not too gruff.

But you know it right away,

Your words so very trite,

But still you’re bound to say

And your lip you will not bite.

When words are all you’ve got

And you know they’ll never do,

But still you take that shot

And express your point of view.

Yes, your words are all you’ve got

And you wrap yourself around,

But how often have you thought

A better way should be found?

The Apple Falls

There was an apple on the ground

That rolled far away from the tree,

So far in fact, it did astound,

And many scientists came to see.

In reality not since Newton

Has much been said of apples falling,

But this wandering apple, you’re darn tootin’,

Had the scientists once again calling.

Nor since Darwin was there such debate,

Sides were picked and lines were drawn,

It became known as ‘Applegate’

This apple baffled that rolled so long.

The gravity of so to speak,

The community could not agree,

But now it seems the science is weak

And apples can fall far from the tree.

Till nothing is as it used to be,

Doctrine has had to change once more;

And poets, yes, poor poets like me,

We’ve lost another metaphor.

A Gecko

A Gecko lizard at my feet,

Stopped a while and checked me out;

Above the beach a chance to meet,

And now it is I have no doubt.

Yep, it is the one from TV,

Who across America is on a trek,

And it stopped a while to visit me,

And have a drink upon my deck.

Although long it couldn’t stay

For it was just passing through;

Flattered I was anyway,

With so many big shots in Malibu.

A TV star to visit little old me,

This famous Gecko passing through,

And though elsewhere it had to be,

We had a fine moment or two.

Punxsutawney Phil

I dreamed of Punxsutawney Phil again,
Like I have so many times before;
This time though he'd escaped his den
And I thought he was gone forever more.

Oh my God, this was the worst,
Tomorrow morning is the big day;
It's already February 1st,
Now Punxsutawney Phil has gone away.

And reporting here from Gobbler's Knob,
The search is on for Punxsutawney Phil;
There's no one else who can do the job,
To tell how much winter's left still.

But in my dream Punxsutawney Phil was found,
'Twas just before sunrise on the big day;
It seems he had gone to ground
Now so much thinner fading away.

But there wide awake he was at sunrise
And his duties he was able to fulfill,
Though I swear I saw it in his eyes,
A shadow of his former self was Phil.