Chuckles, Poops & Giggles


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Davie Doodle

Davie Doodle
Lost his noodle
in Wendy’s
field of wheat.

Then Danny Durham
came a drumming,
which made their life complete.

How sweet
for Davie Doodle
to have lost
his macaroni
in the field of
Wendy’s wheat.

So little Danny Durham
would come
to reassure them
with the pounding
and drumming
of his beat.


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Chores

Filter the water.
Fill the jugs.

Wash the dishes.
Sweep the rugs.

Scold the children.
Give them hugs.

It’s time for a toddy!
Where’s my nugs? 


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Not Polite

Well I’m mightily tired,
and feeling mired,
But I’m still inspired to write,

My brain is so wired,
I’m afraid it’s expired,
but I promised to finish tonight.

So here is my missive,
and best to the missus,
and surely you’ll keep it in sight...

That my mouth and my anus
are both very famous
at saying things not so polite.

 

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The Dragonfly and the Loon

The dragonfly said to the loon,
“Were you the one
who called the moon so bright
you could not sleep at night?
And woke me from my sleep
with crazy sad soliloquy
across the moonlight night?”

The loon said to the dragonfly,
“It is true, it was I
who shamed the moon from the sky.
And she hid behind the earth,
basking shyly in the shadows.
whereupon my singing ceased.
Which then my dear friend dragonfly,
gave you great relief.”

Said the dragonfly to the loon,
“So it was you who shamed the moon,
into hiding.
Now in darkness,
passes the night
with out a drop of moonlight.
For she’s hidden out of sight…
But then again you woke me from my sleep
with crazy sad soliloquy
across the darkness deep?”

The loon said to the dragonfly,
“It is true, it was I
who shamed the moon from the sky.
But now I cannot live without her,
and I sing to woo her back,
so a silver thread of moonlight
Will shine upon the night
and dragonflies and loons can
dream and sing
of friends and love and life.”


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American Buddhist Experience

  

American Buddhist Experience.

Apple Pie and Hot Dogs.

Make Me One With Everything!


Stealing a Good Line,

For the Borrower Culture.

 

Irreverent Bliss, 

This Americaness


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The Poets License 

 

The Poet’s License: 

Facetiousness,

Hyperbole, 

Verbal Caricatures, 

Exaggerate to Accentuate, 

Splats of Word Paint 

Impressionistic Suggestions 

Embellish the Message

With Syntactic Relish. 


Glad you understand  

my poetry  

man!

 

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Nice Price Rice

Ice is nice, 
but it is twice the price of water.

Noodles are nice,
but they are twice the price of rice.

Dice are nice,
they roll like mice that slip on ice.

Vice is not nice,
yet so many like a slice.

Lice are not nice, no, none, nay,
no lice will suffice in my rice!!  

 

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Boogers


There’s booger in my nose.
How did it get there do you suppose? 
Blown in on the wind?
Delivered from a friend?
Accumulated over time

from all the inhaled grease and grime? 

There’s a booger in my nose!

How did it get there do you suppose? 

 

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Grease Monkey

 

Tonight I went to the jungle,

where dwells the Grease Monkey,

to bring my wheels of gears and steel,

to the one endowed to be,

the witch doctor of evil auto spirit spells.

 

Oh Great Agballa, Lord of Dallah,

heed my needy call.

The Bear of Smoke has played a joke

in the name of protecting us all.


He found my steed with one blind eye

shut to the gloomy night.

And my indicators of maneuvers and halts

where much to him so full of faults…


He said: ”My son, you’ve sinned indeed,

and now I’m going to curse your steed

to the wrenches and the spells

of the Inspectorate Grease Monkey.


Boogle dee bloop, blah, blah, blah.

The siren goes whaa whaa whaa.

The Bear take a wand, waves it in the air

places it down on triplicate sheets 

of tree guts, smashed with carbon in between

and says: ”Sign this curse on the dotted line, please.”


Oh Great Agballa, Lord of Dollar, Heed my needy call.

The Bear of Smoke, gone played a joke
in the name of protecting us all.

He said: ”My son, you’ve sinned indeed,
and now I’m going to curse your steed
to the wrenches and the spells
of the Inspectorate Grease Monkey. 

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Bus Stop Intellectual Poet 


Cheap alliterative rhymes
of a bus-stop intellectual poet.
She left me in the dark.
Asleep, I didn’t know it.


Something is missing.
Was it a memory or a dream?
Tumbled marks on a swerving line,
Did I say it straight,
or was it in between the words this time?


I kick the cat for a hiss and spat,
and stumble down the alley.
Feeling good, I knock on wood,
and bang my head to tally,
All the spare change
that fell though the hole in my pocket,
Throwing the dregs away,
losing what I never cared for anyway.


Gin swished mind
sloshing streams of thought,
poured over the sidewalk.
Passing time, waiting for a ride.
Soaking people passing,
proximal pedestrians,
with words spilled from a jumbled mind.


Cheap alliterative rhymes
of a bus-stop intellectual poet.

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Not Here Now


Here,
you've found
that I'm away,
Back again
soon someday.


We'll be there then,
to meet and play,
Sorry that
I've gone away.

 

Not here now
not here today.

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Some People                                   


Everyone can see art,
so what’s it to you?
No one can know,
all of the ways,
it appears in the show.


Some people witness it,
some bliss in it.
Some people critique it,
some join with it.

 

Some people
own the experience,
some disown it.
Some people
steal the art,
some copy the piece.


Some people
remake the song,
some sing along.

 

Some people
make art,
some fake it.

 

Some people
are inspired,
some bored to tears.

 

Some people
understand,
some don't have a clue.

 

Some people
are amused,
seduced by the muse.

 

Some people
are confused,
don't know what to do.


Everyone can see art,
so what's it to you?

 

Everyone perceives belief,
and lives between joy and grief.

 

Some people like me,
Some people like you.


Some people got it,
some people don't.
Some people get it,
Some people won't.

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Digits


You got to have digits to make those widgets.
You got to have digits if you want to count.
Digits on paper, pretty green paper.
Digits are in my banking account!


Honey wants some money,
but hey, the money's funny,
And the yams for clams ain't trading man,
no rain, so they dried out.


So let's make up a game,
where everybody has a play,
no matter how hard you try,
you just can't get out! OW!


You got to have digits to make those widgets,
You got to have digits if you want to count.
Ten feely fingers, ringing digit dingers
Digits are in my checking account!


You got to have widgets to make those digits
You got to have digits if you want to flaunt,
sparkle fire fingers, razzle dazzle diamonds
glitter golden nuggets, and a big fancy house.


You got to have digits in your banking account!


You got to have digits, to manipulate widgets.
Digits came from fingers, fingers learned to count.
Digits on paper, pretty green paper
Digits are in my retirement account!


You got to have digits to make those widgets,
You got to have digits if you want to count.
Ten feely fingers, ringing digit dingers
Digits are now we carry things around!


Ding, Ring! Ring, Ching!
Ching, Fling! Fling, Bling!
Bling, Fling, Ching, Ring,
Ring, Ching,  COUNT!

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