Sunday, August 14, 2011


Listen my friends, hear me say
your life could end on any day.
An alien foe could abduct you
or redneck Joe could pick-up truck you.
The ghetto gangsters just might shoot you;
Albion wangsters try to abuse you.
A drunk driver could overrun you;
an abusive cop could tazer-gun you.
A prowling puma could come and eat you,
or a cougar lady could try to meet you.
Your life could end as you slumber;
you could be crushed by falling lumber.
Some greasy foods could heart-attack you
or greasy dudes could fart and nag you

So now you see, life isn't easy;
it can be, at times, quite queasy.
But no matter how weird or hard,
I got my God - my life to guard.


Once upon a time
I started on a rhyme
I didn't even know
just where the thing would go.
And as it would it happened -
that my mind would snap and
my creativity
would go down the drain you see.
Sure I would come up
with words to fill on up
the white space on my screen,
and replace them with black ink.
Though I suppose ink's the wrong word,
because I haven't printed this,
but I don't care if I'm absurd,
there is no point to miss.
I'm just in a poem mood.
I guess I'm a poem dude.
But whatever the case be,
I have been bored lately.
So poetry will come.
Who cares if it is dumb?
Not I, I can attest.
Thank God it's not a test.

To Emily.

There is a girl though barely know her.
She lives in Missouri, I'd like to go thur [there].
Her name is Emily; she's a good friend of me.
We text a lot, she's always there for me.
I've never called, I must say I'm sorry.
I will some day - whenever that may be.
We'll meet some day - just wait and you will see.
This poem might suck; I'm kind of tired.
Most the time I'm pretty wired.
But I was bored and thought I would
talk to you like a good friend should,
but in a creative way to make it special.
Change things up; keep it fresh, yo'.
I like writing poems just for fun
so it only made sense to write you one.