An Update?!

It's been quite a while

Since there was a poem.

They've been in my head,

I just haven't wrote 'em.

And while this gap might

Occur more than once,

Hopefully next time

It's less than six months.

A Bug's Life

Some bugs bite,
Other bugs don't.
Is it cause they can't?
Or is it cause they won't?
If they bite because they must,
Then do they also bite at home?
But they might get thrown out for biting,
And then it's sad cause they'd be all alone.



**For this poem, I started with 3 syllables and tried to add a syllable for each line. No reason in particular, just kind of felt like trying.

Like a Box of Chocolates

There's something contrary
To what's ordinarily
Found in a box full of sweets.

[Is there a gross, slimy bug,
Or maybe a layer of dust?
Does it taste like old, ratty rugs,
Or maybe like metal and rust?]

It seems that, regardless,
My stomach can't harness this;
Now it's all over my feet.

Good Morning Sunshine

Oh, the sun is such a pretty thing,
Hanging in the sky,
But I can't see the sun today,
It seems it went to hide.

But look! I see it peeking out,
Oh, what a lovely find!
Though after staring at its face,
It seems that now I'm blind.

The Wind-Up Bird

Creak, creeaaak,
The wind-up bird sings.
It sneaks into the trees at dawn
To wind up the world's spring.
And even though some twenty years
Have come and gone,
And years of hurt and fears
Await you, fly on!
Even if you feel that you
Are dangling by a string.
Let that strange, invisible force
Drive you in your future course
Through life, and let
The sound of ever-creaking worlds
Take you in its wings.

Chance Encounter

I looked outside the window
While riding on a bus,
And saw the kind of friendly face
That I thought I could trust.

She had a pretty smile
And sparkling eyes to match.
Oh, she's the kind of girl who'd be
Considered quite a catch.

The bus was driving further, but
I hurriedly got off,
Because this girl attracted me
Like candlelight to moths.

And so I ran, I ran to grasp
The girl I never had.
And then I reached her side and saw
...That 'she' was just an ad.

The Park

Let's go to the park,
Oh it's such a lark,
We'll be like explorers,
Like Lewis and Clark!
But if we're to evade
The druggie parade,
It's best that we go
Before it turns dark.

Art Appreciation

Abstract art
Is like a fart:
It tends to stink
Right from the start.