I don’t care

I used to care

what you think

but now I don’t.

Thought I would be

in despair

but I won’t.

What you think

is really not

a big deal.

What’s more important

is how I make

myself feel.

Life’s too short,

I can’t afford

to fret and worry.

I don’t care.

and I must say

I’m also not sorry.


The Author.  April 30. 2013.

Final entry for National Poetry Month! I am not sure what inspired this poem.  I was just writing as I go, which basically is also how I write just about all my poems.  I hope you enjoyed the poems as I enjoyed writing them.  I am glad it’s over though!


Hockey Playoffs!


The place is alive!


You can feel it



your being.


In waves it comes.

The smell of food.

Splashes of beer



Fast tempo music.

Rocking classics!

Team Jerseys.

Home-made signs.

“Crosby Sucks!”

“Ovie Rocks!”

Players’ beard


The Playoffs are here!



The Author.  April 29. 2013

Good Morning!

In they come, all three of them.

Is it that time yet?

I’m still fast asleep

in la la land.

but who cares?

Who cares that it is

Saturday morning

and only six o’clock?

Daddy! They shouted and jumped

on me.

Bringing me from the depths of sleep

to full awareness.

Oh no…please, a few more hours!

I beg to no avail.

My bed-turned-bouncer

is alive with jumping boys.

My room, a once quiet sanctity

is transformed into

a playground.

Good Morning!



The Author. April 28. 2013


I was talking to Myself

about Himself

I said,  “You should take care of Yourself.”

Myself said Himself

“You don’t  love Yourself

because you think that’s being Self-ish.”

Sometimes Myself

Just keeps to Himself

Like stock on a shelf.

I can see Yourself

looking at Himself

While I talk to Myself.

“Are you mad at Yourself?”

I asked Myself

Shouldn’t he go and play with Himself?

So now Myself

Is off to play with Himself.

How about Yourself?



The Author  April 25th 2013

The Storm

As I lay in deep slumber,

oblivious to the distant thunder,

lightning pierces the darkened skies

but not the eyelids of my eyes.

Pitter patter goes the rain

drumming on my window pane,

and while the moon looks down and scowls

as if in pain the wind it howls.

The clouds as if in sympathy weep

but I miss it all for I’m fast asleep.



The Author.  April 24th 2013



Dying Laughing

If I die laughing

at your humor,

is it murder?

If my joke

splits my side,

and I die,

is it suicide?


In a world so sick

where laughter is lost

Kill me at all cost

If not, I will fall

on my own sharp wit

and impale on it.


Murder or suicide?

Your joke

or mine?

Either would be fine.

Laughing like a clown

as I leave the world.

Goodbye all.





The Poets’ Prayer

As I sit me down to write

I pray the Lord to see the light.

Let relevant ideas come to me

And let me write great poetry.

If the poems that I post

Are not liked the very most.

Let me take it all in stride.

Teach me not to run and hide.

Bless my computer and my pen

In your holy name, Amen.

The Author.  April 22.2013


I once drank way too much rum.
Yes I agree it was dumb.
I fell and hit my head,
Even pissed in my bed
And my penis was covered in gum.

The next week it was way too much rye.
I know, you are wondering why.
I totally agree
That I need therapy
Or one day I’ll surely die.

Then yesterday I had too much sex.
You are now wondering “What’s next?”
Not just with one chick.
My poor sore dick
No wonder my wife is upset.

The Author. April 20th 2013   


Sounds of footsteps
drawing near.
I am being followed!
I walk faster,
clutching my laptop tighter.
The footsteps get louder.
And closer…

I  run.
What do they want?
My laptop?
No! My unpublished blogs!
I hold the laptop to my chest.
Behind me.
Many feet running.
Faceless, unknown people
gaining on me.
I can’t run anymore.
“What do you people want?”

“Easy dude, we are just following
your blog.”