Drain

There once was a young man from Drain
Who said “I’m so sick of this rain
I’m moving to Libya
or maybe Namibia
to live in deep desert terrain!”

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside

Cheapskate

Mad Kane's blog has proved amazingly durable...

When Jason returned with the Fleece
he put all his crew on release
and all he would tender
for service they rendered--
at most, half an obol apiece.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside

Relative Terms

Genetical studies confirm
by tracing the eggs and the sperm
that Uncle Brad wasn't
the dad of my cousin.
"Aunt Brad"? It's a relative term.

--gonna be for readwritepoem and Mad Mad Kane.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

Pocket Change

A quarter will buy my perspective
a penny, your own introspective
or give me a nickel,
buy into my trickle
of consciousness, under-reflective.

Writer's Island: Changed

Silat Limericks

So several friends of mine have been posting about the politics in our martial arts family. And I don't want to be left out, but darn it, I just can't seem to take the whole thing seriously enough.

So...

Steve Perry (no, not the musician
the author) learned proper position
from Guru Steve Plinck.
Now, with pen and ink
he wins his opponents’ submission.

A young silat player named Bobbe
claims silat is not just a hobby.
You’ve got to have balls
to take all those falls
on hard marble floors in the lobby.

This newcomer, last name of Erven
drives a Mini—no hulking Suburban.
The back seat just fits
the sticks, gloves and mitts
and the beer in a super-sized serving.

Simooms from the deserts of Libya
or hurricanes out of Caribbea
may level our towers
but can’t match the power
of the terrible Silat Amphibia.

We silat folk all find it dandy
to get ourselves sticky and sandy
heavily bruised
dazed and confused
and slathered with balur cimande.