To the Graduating Class of 2011

Why should you listen to what I say?
I’m not that important anyway.
Who am I to tell all of you,
What you should or should not do?

I should probably give you some advice,
Like maybe use sunscreen once or twice.
But I know you’d soon forget it,
(Though, if you do you may regret it…)

Words of inspiration are hard to find.
They’re buried deep within my mind.
Our emotions are deep and elemental,
And words are merely sentimental.

They do not express the way I feel,
And cannot make the feelings real.
But the things that you don’t know about,
You’ll soon have that all figured out.

Still, you’ve heard all of this before,
So I don’t really need to talk anymore.
Your time here ends, and with any luck,
You won’t look back and think it sucked.

Shaved

You know that hair,
Down you know where?
There must be a reason,
Why it’s there.
Perhaps to keep,
Your naughty bits warm?
Protect them from
An insect swarm?
Your muff, your bush,
Whatever it’s called,
It’s expected now
To be quite bald.
Way back in,
Previous centuries,
Up till the 1970s,
A natural bush was
Oft desired, loved,
Admired and required.
But alas, the times,
And look have changed.
Pubes styled and dyed,
And rearranged.
A prepubescent look is craved.
And thus our beavers
Are now shaved.

Submitted for Funny Bunny Fridays Week 2

Yeah, I Shed

Yeah, I shed,
Okay I said it.
It’d near define me if I let it,
For I can’t deny my birthday suit,
Is irreversably hirsute,
I’m well blessed by the Gods of Hair,
And it does tend to get everywhere,
I do my best to primp and fuss,
Get groomed at “Gorillaz R Us”,
Still I find these fluffy mounds,
Seems my shedding knows no bounds,
With beds it’s found both on and under,
On bathroom floors (though that’s no wonder),
But not confined to my own dwelling,
The scale of my shedding’s telling,
It’s been found in places near and far,
There may be some just where you are,
It’s been found on the forest floor,
A few strands up on Mount Rushmore,
Here and there some bits that ladies keep,
In the Falklands it’s been found on sheep,
Tough to spot there in Arabia,
But it sure stands out in Scandanavia,
There’s been a rumour I can’t scuttle,
They found some up on the space shuttle,
It’s even been found on the great wall of China,
And in livingrooms in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Harbor Haiku

Look through my window…
See how the sunlight sparkles,
On the breezy bay.

It Just Is

To everything perhaps a season,
That doesn’t mean a rhyme or reason,
Fate plays its hand without showing a card,
At times we’re ever so demanding,
In our need for understanding,
But the truth is sometimes life’s just bloody hard,
It’s also true it seldom lasts,
And at some point rough times are past,
Though we know some day they’ll come back our way,
So raise your glasses with your friends,
Know that every road has bends,
And that in the end joy will find a way.

Laws Governing Volcanoes

In future we would like to see,
Some consideration Mr. V,
We have our own lives you know,
So tell us when you’re going to blow,
It’s unacceptable bravada,
To suddenly spew ash and lava,
As if we’ve naught better to do,
Then rearrange our plans for you,
We’re impressed by your awesome power,
But before your next ashy shower,
Please provide notice if you can,
So we can change a travel plan,
Let us know if you’ll blow your top,
Hey, what’re you doing?
No, not now, STOP!

Weight a Minute

She’s fit and full of energy,
Weighs 20 kilos less than me,
And yet she says she’s fat.
I’m not sure how to take that.

If she is fat then that must mean,
I’m obese and morbidly obscene.

And she likes to casually mention,
When she has your full attention,
How she went the whole day without food.
“All I’ve had is half a grapefruit.”

She’s showing off her deprivation.
So proud of her starvation.

I’m just fine and normal where I’m at,
But in thin-obsessed LA, I’m fat.
It’s hard to see them both obsessing,
Counting calories and guessing.

And though they don’t directly attack,
They do talk a lot behind my back.

And I know this to be true.
They just don’t know what to do.
Don’t understand and can’t relate,
To someone not trying to lose weight.

How could anyone possibly,
Be so fat, and yet so happy?

Caer Ibormeith

At the edge of this night the Great Swan dips,
Grazing my eyes with her feathery tips,
Then Caer Ibormeith unleashes her song,
It settles upon me, draws me along,
She and her Aengus from Bruigh na Boinne’s walls,
Melding their voices as night gently falls,
Stirring prophetic dreams – conciousness thins,
I shift into sleep, the magick begins.

Rapture Rap

(As today is supposed to be the Rapture, I thought some Rapture-based poetry would be most appropriate. Not my own, this time. )

Fab Five Freddy told me everybody’s fly
DJ spinning I said “My, My”
Flash is fast,
Fash is cool,
Francois c’est pas flashe non due.
And you don’t stop,
Sure shot.
Go out to the parking lot,
And you get in your car,
And drive real far.
And you drive all night,
And then you see a light.
And it comes right down,
And it lands on the ground,
And out comes the man from Mars!
And you try to run,
But he’s got a gun,
And he shoots you dead,
And he eats your head.
And then you’re in the man from Mars!
You go out at night eating cars.
You eat Cadillacs,
Lincolns too,
Mercuries and Subarus.
And you don’t stop.
You keep on eating cars.
Then when there’s no more cars you go out at night,
And eat up bars where the people meet.
Face to face.
Dance cheek to cheek,
One to one,
Man to man,
Dance toe to toe.
Don’t move too slow ,
‘Cause the man from Mars is through with cars,
He’s eating bars,
Yeah wall to wall,
Door to door,
Hall to hall,
He’s gonna eat ’em all!
Rapture!
Be pure.
Take a tour through the sewer.
Don’t strain your brain.
Paint a train.
You’ll be singing in the rain.
Said don’t stop to the punk rock.

Well now you see what you wanna be,
Just have your party on TV.
‘Cause the man from Mars,
Won’t eat up bars where the TV’s on.
And now he’s gone back up to space,
Where he won’t have a hassle with the human race.
And you hip hop,
And you don’t stop,
Just blast off,
Sure shot!
Because the man from Mars stopped eating cars,
And eating bars,
And now he only eats guitars!
Get up!

(With thanks to Blondie and Debbie Harry)