BRB

Currently on hiatus. But don’t worry too much, Daily Rhymes will come back bigger and more bad ass (and yet somehow loveable, like a fluffy raccoon), before you know it.

Monday, March 21, 2011

If a hobbit had a hobby,
It would probably involve
Mayo and lox more than
Bonds and stocks.

If the cookie monster had a career
It would probably involve
His love for chocolate snails
Instead of home sales.

If Spring needed a wingman
It could be me because
I’m big and sweet
And I shave my feet.

Limerick Friday #36

There once was a diet that promised you could see more
But it made you hairy, radioactive, and poor
The diet is whack
It makes you see black
But some people will always believe it to the core.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I was snooping through the weather report
To educate myself and things of that sort
I was shocked to see that it all is a sham,
And that the truth is hidden by the weatherman.

I said, “Yo dogg, that’s not right,
When the sky goes black doesn’t mean it’s night.
In fact, how do I know the snow is not actually cocaine?”
So Emily tried it and reported, Bah, it’s just rain.”

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

My bachelor pad is filled
With corned beef and cabbage,
But I don’t know why she treats me
Like a radioactive savage.

She won’t put her purse
On my meaty counter,
She won’t even walk through my hall
So I can’t see her graceful canter.

Instead, she marches away from me
And my heart feels an earthquake,
I think of all the meals together
That we will never make.

Monday, March 14, 2011

If ever there was a day for pie,
This is it,
The cake told me that
As it was about to be bit.

It drove me mad
To see a meltdown like that.
Do your job, I said.
Then I scarfed it all and got fat.

Now the cake is eating me
Like a praying mantis,
My stomach is a tsunami
And my bowels are Atlantis.

Limerick Friday #35

Earthquakes were once confined to a zone
But they heard of Hawaii and decided to roam
When the sun’s a scorcher
The climate is torture
But the environmentalists still rage alone.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

I looked on LinkedIn
And saw that Chuck Norris
Is king of the world.
I was confused
Because I thought Ashley Olsen
Or the head of North Korea
Held the crown that was impearled.
Just when I couldn’t bear anymore
Sean Parker robbed the status
And immediately my vision swirled.
Turns out, it’s not the Dalai Lama
Or the richest man
Whose name is on the banner unfurled.
The world belongs to Bubba
In Wisconsin
Who stays under his desk, curled.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

When I was a young writer
I cared more about cowboys than poetry.
I practiced lassoing dragons
And getting shot stoically.

I’d break rules high and low
And create rituals with tiki lamps,
I’d play cops and catch robbers
And I’d hide under Gramps.

But then I discovered you
And my destiny locked me in chains.
I have to write love poems
And I write them more often than it rains.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Who says you shouldn’t drink tiger blood?
I heard it makes you fat on Tuesday,
And by Wednesday you’re turned to ash.
If it rains on Thursday, you’ll be caked with mud.

That’s how it affects most people, anyway,
Women are at higher risk, doctors tend to say.

It turned a woodman into a king
Who wielded a machete
Until he accidentally cut his ponytail
And then cowered from the confetti.

I hope to become a captain
Riding the highest wave’s crest in the sea.
I’m going to fill a whole cauldron
And pour it all over me.

Monday, March 7, 2011

I’m a knight in shining armor
But I don’t do well in the summer
Because the heat gets me crying.

On a mission to a volcano
I sent an apprentice in my stead,
He returned on fire with sweat quickly drying.

I’ve been getting fat
While I sit here reading
But if I told you this is the life I’d be lying.

If the tournament’s scheduled in winter
Like the Iditarod,
Then I’ll be skippy while sending my foes out dying.

Limerick Friday #34

A strawberry was once an elephant in the room
It had a bad attitude because it would be jam soon
It kept it’s faith
But it’s fate was a wraith
Who heartily laughed as he ate the jam with a spoon.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Women idolize the sun,
Let it shine bright white,
They want me to become
Red as a lobster.

I’ll move to Florida
Where my code of GTL
And my tiger’s blood smell
Will attract cougars.

Now I remember I’m a king
And I already have a girlfriend
But she wants me tan, too,
So my UV abuse will never end.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

To be American
Is to be frank.
But that doesn’t mean
We have to watch Sheen
In interviews that stank.

If the point
Is to have an idol,
You could pick up sports
Like these two cohorts
Or even step onto a treadmill.

Vision is 20/20
In an iPad,
But if we can’t be home
And left alone
Then the scene will just be sad.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Forget the ipod and ipad
I want an ihop
To dance me down the street
‘Cause I’m tired of marching with my feet.

Ah, forget it,
I’d probably be arrested like a hooker
Because the device would be so unknown
The cops would be confused
And say, “book ‘er.”

The containment of a goddess
Would become a national spectacle,
I’d have to climb a eucalyptus just to get away.
I might even invite Bieber
And hope little girls or the media
Don’t drag us away like a greedy beaver.

All this speculating has got me in a fever,
I guess I prefer the ihop to remain a mystery,
So Justin and I will hop off a pier
And finally be history.