Death Knows No Bias

Death knows no bias, so big and small
No matter who, death takes them all
From the business man in fancy suit
To the homeless hobo, face dark with soot
Eeny Meeny Miny Mo
If it’s you, then you must go.

 

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My Wife The Witch

I dreamt that my wife was a witch

A what?

A witch, you thought I said bitch?

On her broom she sat

Wearing her witch hat

While I fumbled with the damn light switch.

 

And then she cackled at me

Did what?

Cackled, as in laugh crazily

Then she scratched at her toes

with her long pointy nose

And had the nerve to still smile at me.

 

I reached up over the bed

Why for?

The light switch, it was close to my head

But I just couldn’t reach

And I heard her screech

A sound that filled me with dread.

 

So close I could smell her foul breath

Oh really?

Yes,  I was ready for death

But as she pounced

I used every ounce

Of my strength and woke up in sweat.

 

So was your wife really a witch?

Say what?

A witch, you thought I said bitch?

Of course not, you dummy!

She was in bed right beside  me

Do your ears have some sort of glitch?

 

 

Writer:  ME.  April. 22nd 2014

 

 

I Sometimes See Dead People

I sometimes see dead people

Oh yes I really do!

And if you look intently

You would see them too.

 

I see them at my work place

The malls and everywhere

They lurk in Government buildings

I see them when I go there.

 

Sometimes they try to trick you

And mess with your head

By pretending to be alive

While actually they are dead.

 

My sister and my cousin too

Are dead as door posts

I pretend I do not know

But I am on to them of course.

 

Yes,  I see dead people

I would never lie to you

And if you don’t believe me

You probably are dead too.

 

 

Author: ME

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s In A Rhyme?

I over analyze nursery rhymes

like a detective at the scene of crimes

I sometimes wonder why Jack and Jill

Really went up that grassy hill

I hope it wasn’t against her will

And trust that she was on the pill.

*

Humpty Dumpty climbed up a wall

He asked for it, I meant the fall.

He got scrambled and that’s no joke

But was he organic? Did he have a yoke?

*

Why didn’t  Old Mother Hubbard

Keep an inventory of her cupboard?

Then the crazy old bag would have known

That inside it she would find no bone

No reason to look, Mother Hubbard Dear,

Your F***ing cupboard is really bare!

*

Now who rocks a baby in a tree top?

If you do, then you should stop

You know what else I really think?

Maybe it’s time you see a shrink.

*

The gossipy old woman who swallowed a fly

Should have kept her mouth shut and she wouldn’t have died.

She had a big mouth, what else can I say?

I cannot put it any other way.

*

I also feel bad for little Jack Horner

Spending Christmas alone in a corner

He told himself he was a good boy

Then why a pie and not a toy?

*

What the hell is a hickory dock?

And what does is have to do with a clock?

Ok, ok, I’m really done,

Analyzing rhymes is not much fun.

***

Written by the writer April 15th 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Cannibal Brothers From Pakistan

There were two brothers

from Pakistan

Of human flesh they were

Big Fans.

With blood on their beards

These brothers looked weird

As they tear at flesh with their hands.

 

The brothers were never

In a hurry.

Even taking time

To add curry

People feared the worst

When they found missing corpse

And that’s when they started to worry.

 

Now they are both locked up

In jail

With no chance of posting

A bail.

With no bodies to eat

And no more dead meat

They sit and chew on their nails.

 

True story.  Read it here

I’m Going To Write A Book

I’m going to write a book.

A book?

Yes  a book.

A book about me.

About you?

Yes me.

It would sell in stores

Like Amazon

By the scores!

Yes, I should write a book

A recipe book?

No not that!

I can’t cook.

Then what?

About me!

Not about

A recipe!

I’m an author!

You Arthur?

No! An author!

Like a book writer!

Oh, I get it!

You are going to write

A book!

About you

And you can’t cook!

 

Ah! Finally!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Want To…

While my hands rest
On your hips
I want to
Kiss your lips.
Feel your heartbeat
In your chest
As I caress
Your breasts.
I want to feel
Your body
As you lie
Right next to me.
I want to whisper
In your ear
Let you know
How much I care.
I want to say
My love is true
I want to make
Sweet love to you.

Not Tonight Dear

Should we have sex, hon?
said Gilles one night.
No we shouldn’t, said Rose
At least not tonight.
I feel ugly and fat
Maybe I am too old
I feel all stuffed up
I think it’s the cold.

Poor Gilles turned over
and he tried to sleep
while beside him his wife
Pretended to weep
It’s not you it’s me
She said with a sob
I have turned into
An unsexy blob.

But Gilles wouldn’t buy it
He loved Rose madly
It’s quite ok, honey
He said to her sadly.
You are fine in my eyes
I’ll always want you
You are, how they say it?
My honey boo boo.

He looked at his wife
Who was crying a puddle
And said Honey dear
It’s fine let’s just cuddle
And that’s what they did
Guess what happened next.
They both fell asleep
No they didn’t have sex.

I Hate Kids

I hate kids

with their grimy hands

and green grass stains

all on their pants.

I just can’t stand

their runny nose

and that filthy stuff

between their toes.

Running around

with dirty faces

tripping over

their own shoe laces.

What’s there to love?

Some say it’s cute?

But I just hate kids

And that’s the truth.