Bubblegum Princess

To my buddy Claudia. This is dark sociological commentary about guys who are superficial. It‘s deep, man. Deep :p

I love you, Britney!

With all my heart

C’mon and be with me

Let lovin’ start, let lovin’ start


I really want to know

The girl behind the show

You promise a piece of me

But I, I don’t see


I love you, Britney!

My love is so true

C’mon and be with me

We can start anew, start anew


Do you play Candyland?

Are you a gingerbread man?

So many questions for you

Heavy like the morning dew


I love you, Britney!

With all my heart

C’mon and be with me

Let lovin’ start, let lovin’ start


Oh, Britney Spears

I’ve loved you for years…
 

Lend Me Your Ear (Before I Die)

Get out your hankie.  If you channel Joe Cockers performance at Woodstock of the Beatles’ “With A Little Help From My Friends,” this works really well.  If not, you have a strange brew with the rhyme schemes being off and some of the rhymes being, uh, forced -- “experimental,” you could say.

Lend me your ear, I’ve got something to say

Maybe inspiration, you will find

No, it’s not really that important

Sorry for wasting your time


Nothing worse

Than to live a life unknown

Nothing worse

Than to die alone


When I die, no one will come

No tears will be shed for me

When I die, no bells will ring

No trumpets will blare for me


As I take my last breath

I really want to say

Something important

That will last to the next day


I wish I had been a better uncle

I wish I had been a better friend

I wish I had been better

‘Til the very end

She Was Born The Day Elvis Died

Most of my poetry can be tied to music -- in this case, Don McClean’s “American Pie.” I happen to feel that, if a poem can’t be sung, well, it needs love! :p The first two verses are slow and draggy, but the tempo picks up with the chorus and remains fast-paced -- wish I could explain it better, but I don’t know crap about music.


Don McClean cried out his soul

But the U.S. Army killed rock’n’roll

Too bad he had it wrong -- my girl can’t hide

She was born the day Elvis died


I look for the King every day

Her walk, her talk, her sense of play

Surely, that bond is strong -- my girl can’t hide

She was born the day Elvis died


There must be a connection there

As two souls passed in the air

She must have a piece of his soul

As she sings rock’n’roll


As she sings rock’n’roll


Love me tender, love me sweet, all my dreams fulfilled

Darlin,’ you know, I love you and I always will

As she sings her song -- she can’t hide

She was born the day Elvis died


Lord Almighty, she makes my temperature rise

Lordy, Lordy, with her smoldering eyes

Goodness, she can’t hide

She was born the day Elvis died


P.S.; Who will play ’my girl’ in the movie? Well, I’d like to get Jordon Ladd on the castung couch. ;)

Singin' In The Bathtub

Is nothing sacred!?! This bawdiness was inspired by a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Instead of being rated ‘R,’ consider this to be ‘PG-13.’


Singin’ in the bathtub

La-dee-da-da-dane

Washing all my troubles

Down the drain


Singin’ in the bathtub

La-dee-da-da-dee

Filling up the water

With bubbles and pee


Gettin’ out of the bathtub

La-dee-da-da-dicky

Leaving behind water

That’s just plain icky


Gettin’ out of the bathtub

La-dee-da-da-verse four

I’m more nasty

Than I was before

One In The Morning

Grab your air guitar and strut your stuff. LIFE IS SHORT, MAN. Life is too short. I wonder if AC/DC needs another lyricist?


One in the morning! Let’s rock.


The air is heavy with the smell of panties and silk pajamas too

Cross your legs, baby, or I’ll have to unleash the Mighty Beast

Let’s paint our nails and model a wet tee or two

If this ain’t heaven laid out with a heavenly feast


It’s one in the morning, and I don’t know where I am

But I do know I wanna be in a rock-n-roll band

I wanna be in a rock-n-roll band


Well, you know, I could sniff your panties all night and then some

C’mon, sugar, let me see a little stubby camel toe

Let’s play kissing games all around for everyone

My name has been called, or, well, I think so


It’s one in the morning, and I don’t know who I am

But I do know I wanna be in a rock-n-roll band

I wanna be in a rock-n-roll band


I wanna be, I wanna be in a rock-n-roll band

I wanna be in a rock-n-roll band, in a rock-n-roll band
 

Four Little Bastards

A gangbang, violence, incest -- what more could you want!?! :p This is a bawdy take on the “5 Little Monkeys” nursery rhyme.


Four little bastards doing a girl

Making her head spin in a whirl

Daddy bust in with a gun in his hand

Shot a little bastard in the naughty gland

Daddy said “gotta save my little girl”


Three little bastards doing a girl

Making her head spin in a whirl

Daddy bust in with a gun in his hand

Shot a little bastard in the naughty gland

Daddy said “gotta save my little girl”


Two little bastards doing a girl

Making her head spin in a whirl

Daddy bust in with a gun in his hand

Shot a little bastard in the naughty gland

Daddy said “gotta save my little girl”


One little bastard doing a girl

Making her head spin in a whirl

Daddy bust in with a gun in his hand

Shot the little bastard in the naughty gland

Daddy said “gotta save my little girl… for myself”


OK, this is a PG take on the “5 Little Monkeys” nursery rhyme.


Five little monkeys jumping on a bed

One fell off and bumped his head

Mama endangered children and was arres-ted

She shouldn’t let little monkeys jump on the bed

Why Do The Good Go Blind?

I don’t think this works as well as “No Christmas Tree For Me 2013,” but, anyway -- maybe I should ‘be inspired’ * cough, cough * by McCartney more often, huh? Inspired by Billy Joel’s “Only The Good Die Young” -- well, at least, the title. :p Does the “Billy” in the first line refer to Billy Joel or Billy Graham? Wouldn’t you like to know? Boy, being a poet is fun!


Tell me, Billy, tell me the way

I pray in your church every day

Never met a blind man who was not OK


Why do the good go blind?


Please tell me the answer before it’s too late

I sit and wonder full of hate

What can I do to avoid my fate?


Why do the good go blind?


So many questions, too little time

The answers, I can’t find

Why do the good go blind?


Oh, why do the good go blind?


There are times…

When I want to rip this veil away

But I know it’s here to stay

No matter how good I am…


Why do the good go blind?

Hey, why do the good go blind?

I really want to know, why, why do the good go blind?

Peace, Love And Lava (Meredith's Gift)

The silliness continues…


I bought my girl a lava lamp

Gonna make her a flower child

Lava is so soothing

It will make her meek and mild


“Peace, love and lava”

Is what she’ll say

She’ll dance to weird music

And her parents will curse the day


I bought my girl a lava lamp

A flower child, you see

Groovy, man

Man, groo-vee!


P.S.: Coming next -- “I bought my girl a black light” -- :p