The Most Romantic Poem in the World


I wrote a poem a while back that I called “The Most Romantic Poem of All Time.” Well, I’ve retitled it “The Most Romantic Poem in the World” and made it into a video.

Music credits:
“Reaching for you” by DreamhoundIX http://www.newgrounds.com/audio/listen/561226

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Ode to severe halitosis – A poem


Bad breath doesn’t get enough love, so I decided to write a poem about it.

 

Ode to severe halitosis

Your tongue is one big boil

Like meat gone to spoil

Blacker than soil

 

Your teeth are green

With a shiny purple sheen

They’re anti-clean

 

Your breath is like wet dog

With just a hint of hog

Thicker than smog

 

Your mouth is unique

And dare I say chic?

So show off that reek!

Grin and Bare It All – A poem about freeing yourself from clothing


Here’s a free verse poem I’ve been working on. It’s a deep treatise about freedom and stripping yourself of society’s expectations. This is actually based on an event in my younger years, when my ideas were still fresh and free. I’ve changed my opinion on clothing in more recent years, but there’s still a place in my heart that still wants to bare my whole self to the world.

 

Grin and Bare It All

That’s a lovely tie you have there

Was it expensive?

Or did you get it on sale?

Ties are like a noose around my neck

I could never wear one

Day in Day out

Like a leash leading me to

my cell

Where I would toil in a desert

of cubicles

My only release the oasis

of a water cooler

I prefer an open neck

Free of expectations

and tie sweat

My bare neck is a billboard

to the world that says:

Not for sale!

Other garments are the same

Cloth promises

to a heartless world

I like to strip them all off

and run around town

baring my freedom

to all I pass by

People don’t like seeing

my freedom

It scares them

And they hide their eyes

I yell at them to remove

their woven shackles

But they’d rather stay wrapped

In society

And my freedom gets quite chilly

when I do this in winter

Frostbite is a small price

to pay

But that won’t stop me

in my jiggly dance of liberty

So please Mr. Judge

I’m not a streaker

I just want to teach the world

to screw the world and its reliance on clothes

So see, you should give me a medal

and release me

Please Mr. judge

please?*

 

*Note: The judge did not listen to my plea and fined me $400 dollars and ordered me to see a therapist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spasticasia – When you dance like a drunken koala


I’ve decided to write a poem for anyone else suffering from the condition known as Spasticasia. Well, it’s known to me as that. Most people know it as having two left feet, or dancing like a drunken koala.

 

Dancing Fool

Can’t find the rhythm

Can’t find the beat

Can’t even find

My own two feet

 

Flailing my arms

Like they’re on fire

Twisting my waist

Like it’s stuck in a tire

 

Bump and grind

Becomes bump and trip

If I’m not careful

I’ll just up and slip

 

No I’m not dying

It’s just how I flow

Don’t dial 911

Just get on with the show

 

Misjudged a kick

Hit someone’s shin

That’s my signal

The night’s come to an end

 

All in all

I had a good time

You say my dancing’s bad

I say it’s sublime!

 

I’m sure this poem will speak to the hearts of all those with a bad case of Spasticasia, whether chronic or applied. (Applied Spasticasia is also known as bad dancing brought on by massive alcohol consumption. I happen to have both conditions.) Whenever you flail your limbs at a nightclub or a school dance, remember that you are the dancing equivalent of a stick figure. And stick figures are awesome! Embrace your lack of rhythm, for you are free… free from the bonds of tempo and pace. You no longer even dance to beat of your own drummer, as you killed that drummer and replaced it with a drunken otter smashing a rock on its head.

Dance on, all you flailers and trippers. Dance like there’s no tomorrow! (Seriously, if you pretend the world’s about to end, the panic greatly increases your Spasticasic movements.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Most Romantic Poem of All Time – With fleas, pee and rabid dogs


This is my attempt at the most romantic poem of all time:

My love itches like a flea

It fills me like beer tinged pee

That I’m in love is not news

It leaks from my feet to squelch in my shoes

—————————————–

My love is like a rabid dog

It pours from my mouth like slobbery fog

My mind is crazed with love tonight

I’ll find random people and bite bite bite

—————————————–

My love is like upturned trash

It came into my life with a mighty crash

There’s dripping bits of love debris

I grab it all for me me me

—————————————–

My love is like a plate of peas

It curdles in my heart and turns to cheese

With every taste of my love cheddar

It just gets better and better

My Heart Beats For Plastic Wrap – A Poem


I really love plastic wrap and all you can do with it. You can keep your food fresh, spray paint it and wear it as a shirt and wrap and turn it into a homemade slip and slide. So, here’s a poem to state my love of plastic wrap once and for all.

My Heart Beats For Plastic Wrap

Plastic wrap me up

In your clingy cocoon

I’ll burst out

A well preserved butterfly

You preserve my food

And make a good flag

You cling to my skin

Like a sunburn peel

You’re slippery when wet

But not when dry

You smell like feet

If I burn you

 –

Oh plastic wrap

My useful friend

Wrap me up

In your clingy cocoon

Ode to Zombies


I decided to write a poem for zombies, those lovable flesh eating corpses.

 

Ode to Zombies

The sun shone bright on my head.

It didn’t matter that I was dead.

People screamed and ran away.

But all I wanted to do was play.

 

Zombie tag is quite a thrill.

We shuffle along, going in for the kill.

We take your brain and wolf it down.

Then we all go and party down.

 

We get drunk and dance ‘til dawn.

And then all crash at Forest Lawn.

Everyone should get on the zombie train.

All it costs is a bit of brain.

My Poems For Kids Just Made Parents Mad


I wrote a few poems for children and read them at a library’s story time. The parents were less than pleased and screamed at me to leave. I don’t know what I did wrong. My mother used to read me poems like them all the time when I was a kid.

Well, here are the poems. Maybe you can tell me why they aren’t kid friendly.

Little Billy Went to Town,

Little Billy Met a Clown

The Clown gave Billy a buck

Then Little Billy got hit by a truck

 

Sunny Suzy had a doll

She loved it to bits

The doll was filled with lead

Which gave Sunny Suzy fits

 

All the little puppies came out to play

Look at them romp around,

In their little puppy way

They chew on the table

And pee on the floor

And leave a special surprise

Just outside the door

Damn puppies!

 

The sun is shining brightly

And the sand waits to be traversed

We’re stuck in the Namib Desert

And we’re gonna die of thirst

 

My love is deep

Deeper than a well

But it’s not for you, jerkoff

I hope you rot in hell

Pizza, How Could You Burn My Mouth? A Poem of Deep Sorrow


I decided to write a poem about a grave injustice foisted on me by what i thought was an understanding piece of savory pie. Let this be a warning to you, not all foodstuffs can be trusted.

Pizza, How Could You Burn My Mouth?

Bubbling sauce, melting cheese

Taste beyond compare

Welcomed kiss, of hungry teeth

Mouth in anticipation

Blinding pain, hanging skin

My heart betrayed

Pizza, how could you burn my mouth?

I thought we had something special.