Life as a Turkey

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Humor

Okay. I must be bored off my rocker. I figure that I’ll torture you with funny holiday poetry that I wrote up.

I hope everyone out there takes a moment and appreciates what they have. There are a lot of people in my life that I care for, a lot of people I love, and I hope that all of my friends here on Myspace are surrounded by people who care about them.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.

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Life as a Turkey

I thought that life was pretty good,
Living my days in the woods
Then my friend came by,
He was covered in mud
And I thought ‘what is that crud’

He said run boy, run!
As I heard the bang of the gun
And I wondered,
why my Indian friend was smiling…

He was probably thinking
Dinner had almost begun

I gobbled down my pride
And ran faster, and faster
As I left that pig behind
I’m probably a bad friend
For leaving him to his end

Yet it was I,
for whatever reason I don’t know why
that those stupid puritans wanted to find
Me, the ugly bird who couldn’t even fly
Why choose today, as the day I should die?

The Maniac Next Door

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Humor

This goes into the “Barry is a disturbed person” file. One of my friends challenged me to write about something she thought was cute and fun, and I obliged her request with a demented smile. (Mwhwhahahahaha!). It needs some work, I’m not claiming it to be perfect yet…. but it fills my ‘eViL’ qouta for now.

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Ah, the world had thought me lovable.
I was, for the most part, very likable.
Cute, huggable, and even adored by some
But I had a mean streak, a little anger problem
A hidden closet in my home that no one had visited alive
Full of sharp axes and poison that made me giggle with glee

No one knew how dark my world was
They always thought it was full of happy picnics
of floating red balloons and perfect sunny days
But the truth was far easier to hide from innocent eyes
I was a personality of passion, accustomed to taking what I deserved
And simply blaming my stupidity for the evil things I enjoyed

I could push people down in the mud
and simply say ‘oh my’
My home could be filled with little trinkets I thieved
and openly confess I merely forgot where they came from
But most importantly, I could have jars
Brilliant jars that allowed me to collect my true obsession

No one understood my need for jars, so I have a need to confess
I sat on the center of my living room, on my new plush rug of orange and black
It was soft, almost as soft as it was when it bounced from here to there
But today it made a better ornament for my eyes and a soft spot for my bum
It was definitely better as a rug, which I could hug,
Because honestly the original owner was just too smug.

I ate my lunch, as my tummy rumbled so steady.
Beside me sat a pile of honey, which never really sat well in my tummy
And on the stove, a grand dinner cooked
A roasting stew, slowly cooked with some carrots
Barely big enough to make a dinner for one
But tasty and tender, as pigs taste better when young

No one had questioned why we never saw kids in the woods
They didn’t understand, that Pooh had a grievance that was misunderstood
I had the answer, oh yes I had the answer indeed
I was simply happy, because I was maniacal and still free
My laughing and glee, as I ate my honey
was simply a distraction, from hording what I need

As the sun set below the hundred acre woods
and I began my nightly ritual of collecting the people I call food
of children who thought they were smart
One part honey to preserve, one jar per heart
and into the closet they go
where no one would ever know

Oh my mortal enemy would finally realize
Christopher Robins was not always that dumb you see
But I was the Pooh Bear,
And I was always fair,
I strangled poor Chris, and to be honest it gave me some bliss
But don’t you worry, he isn’t a boy I will miss

Burp

The Pirate

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Humor


On the open sea
We are what we will be
Some call us thieves
Which is true indeed
A reason we earned such bounty
But let us see
If pirates we will be

On the open sea
We take what we may need
Some of us believe
That we simply need more than thee
But let us be
Well sail oh so free
As pirates we will be

On the open sea
We laugh at those who bleed
Some tales we have are oh so true
As Ive heard, weve taken a daughter or two
Seducing the ladies who simply like our hats
Youll probably scream, you want us to have none of that
As pirates we will be

On the open sea
Well be what we will be
The cannons will fire
And well take the gold that we desire
As we drink our rum
And we keep our crew on the run
As pirates we will be

On the open sea
Dont forget we me
Indeed itll be a day you regret
But we will be, what we will be
Our day a filled with strife
Argh, tis the way we live this life
As pirates we will be

Thankful Coffee

Posted by in Coffee, Coffee - Volume One, Friendship, Humor

A few drips

Amazing what they do

Mixing with water

Something to brew

Bitter like life

Warmed with compassion

Best mixed with friendship

And simple conversation

Alcatraz Coffee

Posted by in Coffee, Coffee - Volume Two, Defiant, Humor

Laughingly, I need more
Like most walls of a prison
This thing I so desperately want is behind the bar
Slightly out of reach
being served to me by someone who knows
how badly I want it

They know I cannot leave
That I have wants
and needs
that are eating away at who I am
They know they keep the answer to my desire
and slowly torture me with coy smiles
as I wait

I am simply wanting what they have
as I move through the line
waiting patiently
one step at a time

These gaurds know they hold me captive
making me look at all these things I could want
but they know, as do I
that my deepest
darkest
most sinful desire
only makes me a prisoner

to coffee

My Mouse

Posted by in Coffee - Volume One, Friendship, Humor

I found a wonderful friend today

            This charming little mouse

Her eyes were so affectionate

            I hope she likes this place to stay

I don’t mind her in my house

An Axe

Posted by in Daily thoughts, Humor, Inquisitive

I tried once to change who I am
It was nearly impossible
Finding myself sharpening an axe

I realized my head was too attached
That my logic has consumed me
Discovering that my mind could never sustain me

My willpower told me survival wasn’t living
A spirit within me needed to be free
Simple desire told me that I wasn’t even breathing

I placed my head once more to the chopping block
Stretched my neck out, precariously tossing the blade high into the air
And it fell, cutting through a small white flower nestled so close to my neck

In trying to be myself
I lost my innocence
By killing something simlistically more beautiful than I could ever hope to be

The Mouse

Posted by in Coffee - Volume One, Friendship, Humor

That mouse
He talks to me
His nose twitching
The words are so soft
So friendly I say hello
He wants a piece of cheese
But I have none
Is that all he wants
Maybe next time I’ll have some