Now I lay me down to rest...
a pile of books upon my chest.
I hope to die before I wake
so I won't have a test to take.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Tyson Chews up Holyfield
I’ve got a thousand bucks tonight
I’ll bet upon the Tyson fight
If I’m a loser, I’ll be poor
but Mike is safe, I know I’ll score!
Tyson will win, I know he will
'cause he’s like the man of steel!
That Holyfield is going down
Mike Tyson will K.O. that clown!
Mike Tyson is my hero, yo!
I wish Mike Tyson were my bro.
I wish I had more than a grand,
Evander’s dead at Tyson’s hand!
Ahhh…It begins, the fight is on!
“Hey, kill that man, Tyke, make him gone!
Take down that washed up Holyfield…
his number’s up, his fate is sealed!
Whoop him! Batter him! Make him dead!
Make me some green, let’s see some red!
You’re the best boxer there has been
I’m sure that you are primed to win!”
Ahhh…look at those big muscles roll
Mike’s got fighting in his soul
He is young and tough and strong
and in the ring he does no wrong!
Mike is great! He is the man!
He’ll make me rich, that is the plan.
Tyson is best and knows no fear…
What…he’s biting off Evander’s ear???!!!
Watch the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw2CpW5qtmU
I’ll bet upon the Tyson fight
If I’m a loser, I’ll be poor
but Mike is safe, I know I’ll score!
Tyson will win, I know he will
'cause he’s like the man of steel!
That Holyfield is going down
Mike Tyson will K.O. that clown!
Mike Tyson is my hero, yo!
I wish Mike Tyson were my bro.
I wish I had more than a grand,
Evander’s dead at Tyson’s hand!
Ahhh…It begins, the fight is on!
“Hey, kill that man, Tyke, make him gone!
Take down that washed up Holyfield…
his number’s up, his fate is sealed!
Whoop him! Batter him! Make him dead!
Make me some green, let’s see some red!
You’re the best boxer there has been
I’m sure that you are primed to win!”
Ahhh…look at those big muscles roll
Mike’s got fighting in his soul
He is young and tough and strong
and in the ring he does no wrong!
Mike is great! He is the man!
He’ll make me rich, that is the plan.
Tyson is best and knows no fear…
What…he’s biting off Evander’s ear???!!!
Watch the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw2CpW5qtmU
DMV Envy
Oddly ugly people I see
Hoi polloi at the DMV
Bored, impatient citizenry
waiting in line ahead of me
We get numbers, then wait some more
We’re pacing—pacing on the floor
and standing, sitting—what a bore!
Oh, to be done and out the door!
A sleeping woman by my side
is a prune all wrinkled and dried
She looks as if she might have died
except her lungs push out her hide
Perhaps forty, or younger yet,
her beauty’s flying like a jet
It looks as if she’s lost a bet
and Father Time’s called in her debt
Above her cheek’s a gruesome mole
she looks like tanning’s done its toll
and too much drugs and rock and roll
have turned a princess to a troll
She smells of smoke and cheap perfume
Beneath her eyes are bags of gloom.
Her bleached hair looks like a vacuum
has sucked it to a frenzied doom.
I sit and wonder of her life
Was it sordid or was it rife?
Had she some joy or only strife?
Has she children? Was she a wife?
An hour has gone by of my time
but I grin when I think that I’m
inspired as I write this rhyme
by a woman way past her prime
I’ve things to do, places to go
but my time drags just way too slow
but, for her, time’s unceasing flow
ages her fast and is her foe.
I’m going crazy waiting here
watching that woman sitting near
I’m dying from this crowded drear
She will not even lend an ear!
Wait…she is waking up I see
She stands!...and walks away from me?
Ah…her number’s called, she’ll soon be free
from this dreary DMV
Then I look down and am aghast…
I won’t be gone from here so fast—
I stoop and frown and feel downcast
because –my number is long passed!
I came before that sleeping dead
and realize late, with utmost dread,
that now she is far, far ahead
She’ll be free, I’ll be here instead!
Oh…it is really quite unfair
I missed my number calling there
Because I couldn’t help but stare
At a withered wench in the next chair!
Hoi polloi at the DMV
Bored, impatient citizenry
waiting in line ahead of me
We get numbers, then wait some more
We’re pacing—pacing on the floor
and standing, sitting—what a bore!
Oh, to be done and out the door!
A sleeping woman by my side
is a prune all wrinkled and dried
She looks as if she might have died
except her lungs push out her hide
Perhaps forty, or younger yet,
her beauty’s flying like a jet
It looks as if she’s lost a bet
and Father Time’s called in her debt
Above her cheek’s a gruesome mole
she looks like tanning’s done its toll
and too much drugs and rock and roll
have turned a princess to a troll
She smells of smoke and cheap perfume
Beneath her eyes are bags of gloom.
Her bleached hair looks like a vacuum
has sucked it to a frenzied doom.
I sit and wonder of her life
Was it sordid or was it rife?
Had she some joy or only strife?
Has she children? Was she a wife?
An hour has gone by of my time
but I grin when I think that I’m
inspired as I write this rhyme
by a woman way past her prime
I’ve things to do, places to go
but my time drags just way too slow
but, for her, time’s unceasing flow
ages her fast and is her foe.
I’m going crazy waiting here
watching that woman sitting near
I’m dying from this crowded drear
She will not even lend an ear!
Wait…she is waking up I see
She stands!...and walks away from me?
Ah…her number’s called, she’ll soon be free
from this dreary DMV
Then I look down and am aghast…
I won’t be gone from here so fast—
I stoop and frown and feel downcast
because –my number is long passed!
I came before that sleeping dead
and realize late, with utmost dread,
that now she is far, far ahead
She’ll be free, I’ll be here instead!
Oh…it is really quite unfair
I missed my number calling there
Because I couldn’t help but stare
At a withered wench in the next chair!
Red Snow Road
The city lights on winter nights
shine on the fallen snow
After drinking in a bar, a man walked over to his car
And drove into the traffic flow
Refrain: Cry, cry, cry little children
Your parents aren’t coming home
With vision bleared, he wrongly steered
and hit his head on the dash
The car kept rolling down a hill
Collided with an Oldsmobile
and caused a killer crash
Refrain: Cry, cry, cry little children
You will be loners soon
(This verse played with sirens sounds on piano)
Sirens wailing, lives were failing
and the drunk woke in the chilled air
He saw parents dying, their little children crying
but he was too drunk to care
No more shining lights and speeding cars
once behind the prison bars
But he’s not worried by his fall
He gave his attorney a call
he’ll be out in no time at all
Refrain: Cry little children, cry until you drown
You once were full of smiles, now all you do is frown
So cry, cry, cry and let your anger shout
For the cause of your loss and the cause of your pain
will soon be out,
and free to drink, free to drive and to kill again
Go visit the place where the snow runs red
at the bottom of an icy hill
Where some drunken fool made your parents dead
And go cry by the graves of the others he’s killed
but suffer in vain, for he’ll be out again
to drink, and to drive, and to kill!
shine on the fallen snow
After drinking in a bar, a man walked over to his car
And drove into the traffic flow
Refrain: Cry, cry, cry little children
Your parents aren’t coming home
With vision bleared, he wrongly steered
and hit his head on the dash
The car kept rolling down a hill
Collided with an Oldsmobile
and caused a killer crash
Refrain: Cry, cry, cry little children
You will be loners soon
(This verse played with sirens sounds on piano)
Sirens wailing, lives were failing
and the drunk woke in the chilled air
He saw parents dying, their little children crying
but he was too drunk to care
No more shining lights and speeding cars
once behind the prison bars
But he’s not worried by his fall
He gave his attorney a call
he’ll be out in no time at all
Refrain: Cry little children, cry until you drown
You once were full of smiles, now all you do is frown
So cry, cry, cry and let your anger shout
For the cause of your loss and the cause of your pain
will soon be out,
and free to drink, free to drive and to kill again
Go visit the place where the snow runs red
at the bottom of an icy hill
Where some drunken fool made your parents dead
And go cry by the graves of the others he’s killed
but suffer in vain, for he’ll be out again
to drink, and to drive, and to kill!
Two Chicks
The baby birds work with a will to live
Pecking and clawing till their egg shells give
Two fuzzy chicklets then enter the world
one is a boy and the other a girl
The soft yellow fuzz that they both wear
quivers as they breathe their very first air
Their battle was living and they have won
They want to show off what they have done.
They look to the left and they look to the right
For their dear mother, but she’s not in sight
Instead there are thousands just as they
Chirping worriedly who’d been born that day
Suddenly a huge fat claw grabs the boy
and lifts him roughly like a lifeless toy
A corpulent woman then checks him out—
prodding his fuzz until there’s no doubt.
He is a male, so she breaks his neck—CRACK!
And then lops him into a death-filled sack.
Aborting chicklets is not a big deal
for they are so small and easy to kill.
Roosters don’t bring any profits in
Shareholders view losses as a sin
So our little rooster was born in vain
since he’d not increase the corporate gain.
The woman then claws the baby hen
and does what she’s done many times again.
The lady stops poking when satisfied
the chick’s a girl and can be set aside.
Natural sunlight shall be denied this chick
though the sun almost makes a chicken tick
In a crowded in-door cage she’ll grow
where she may never hear a rooster’s crow.
Her wings are cut off so she can’t flap…
she only breathes the scent of chicken crap
Her feed’s designed to maker her big and sick—
laced with antibiotic arsenic
She is debeaked so in case of a rage
she can’t hurt the others in her cage.
Her toes are chopped so they won’t grow around
the metal wires that make up her ground
And when she has grown old enough to lay,
lights are kept on twenty-three hours a day.
Artificial hormones give her some juice
so day in and day out she must produce
She will lay many months until she’s dry,
then she’ll be killed for us to roast or fry.
As we eat theses tasty birds with glee
let us not forget their misery.
A chick breaks out of a creamy round shell
to enter life in a corporate hell.
All meats found upon our dinner plates
endured similarly tormented fates.
Pigs and cows and sheep and fish
suffer before they are placed on a dish
Gone are the healthy, happy farms of old
where animals lived well till their meat was sold.
Factory farming is now the way
but it’s not only animals who pay
For by eating the products of greed and pain
we suffer ill-health or huge weight gain
We gorge ourselves full of scavenged meat
though plant foods are meant for us to eat.
Christians, Moslems, and Jews should all note
the very first diet that Moses wrote
Contained in Genesis one-twenty-nine
the foods given us by the divine
and the only foods that we really need
are tree fruits and herbs bearing seed.
Pecking and clawing till their egg shells give
Two fuzzy chicklets then enter the world
one is a boy and the other a girl
The soft yellow fuzz that they both wear
quivers as they breathe their very first air
Their battle was living and they have won
They want to show off what they have done.
They look to the left and they look to the right
For their dear mother, but she’s not in sight
Instead there are thousands just as they
Chirping worriedly who’d been born that day
Suddenly a huge fat claw grabs the boy
and lifts him roughly like a lifeless toy
A corpulent woman then checks him out—
prodding his fuzz until there’s no doubt.
He is a male, so she breaks his neck—CRACK!
And then lops him into a death-filled sack.
Aborting chicklets is not a big deal
for they are so small and easy to kill.
Roosters don’t bring any profits in
Shareholders view losses as a sin
So our little rooster was born in vain
since he’d not increase the corporate gain.
The woman then claws the baby hen
and does what she’s done many times again.
The lady stops poking when satisfied
the chick’s a girl and can be set aside.
Natural sunlight shall be denied this chick
though the sun almost makes a chicken tick
In a crowded in-door cage she’ll grow
where she may never hear a rooster’s crow.
Her wings are cut off so she can’t flap…
she only breathes the scent of chicken crap
Her feed’s designed to maker her big and sick—
laced with antibiotic arsenic
She is debeaked so in case of a rage
she can’t hurt the others in her cage.
Her toes are chopped so they won’t grow around
the metal wires that make up her ground
And when she has grown old enough to lay,
lights are kept on twenty-three hours a day.
Artificial hormones give her some juice
so day in and day out she must produce
She will lay many months until she’s dry,
then she’ll be killed for us to roast or fry.
As we eat theses tasty birds with glee
let us not forget their misery.
A chick breaks out of a creamy round shell
to enter life in a corporate hell.
All meats found upon our dinner plates
endured similarly tormented fates.
Pigs and cows and sheep and fish
suffer before they are placed on a dish
Gone are the healthy, happy farms of old
where animals lived well till their meat was sold.
Factory farming is now the way
but it’s not only animals who pay
For by eating the products of greed and pain
we suffer ill-health or huge weight gain
We gorge ourselves full of scavenged meat
though plant foods are meant for us to eat.
Christians, Moslems, and Jews should all note
the very first diet that Moses wrote
Contained in Genesis one-twenty-nine
the foods given us by the divine
and the only foods that we really need
are tree fruits and herbs bearing seed.
Cat Bus Blues
I rode on a bus, late one night When I happened to see a cat bus fight An old weary man had come on board and bought all the transfers he could afford The driver asked whom the transfers were for ‘Cause only the old man came through the door "Why, they are for my friends, don't you see? They are very good and dear to me." Driver drove off, his shift was over soon Why argue with an old bus riding loon The crazy old man yelled, "My name is Gus!" As he wobbled to the end of the long Cat bus At the end of the bus there were five free seats The old bum laying said, "This beats the streets." He was nodding off in a minutes time And that's when I began to write this rhyme. The old man was laying not too far from me And he stank, Dang he stank! Of beer and sweat and pee. Everyone on board, as the old man dozed, Breathed through their mouth as they covered their nose. At one stop a lady tried to get in But the steps were too high and the door too thin So the driver took oil and greased up her butt And squeezed her through as she sucked in her gut She wheezed as she topped the very last stair And I smelled an odor beyond compare It almost overpowered the stench on the bus Given off by our friend who calls himself Gus The scent was escaping from her mouth And blowing towards me which was due south I hadn't closed my nose ‘cause I was writing this down and the stink was so heavy I thought I'd drown The bus seats were full but she'd be damned If she couldn't sit but would have to stand. Being a gentleman I quitted my seat So she could get off her big flat feet. She slowly walked down the narrow hall To my seat which was just too small for this big lady who smelled so bad But then she saw Gus and boy she got mad The driver looked back to the end of the bus As the lady made a fuss and Gus began to cuss "Why're you taking up five seats you dirty old man While you let a poor lady like me stand?" "I paid for these seats, they're rightfully mine!" And he kept on laying as the big lady whined I would have been smiling at this whole event if it wasn't for that God awful scent. Then before my eyes, they began to tussle but against this lady the old man's muscle would surely not carry him through the spat for not even Arnold could lift her fat The driver pulled over to the side of the road to put an end to this episode. He strode on back, to the back of the bus and tried to pull the lady off of Gus He pulled and he tugged to no avail Against this lady he was just too frail Six passengers stood and it took all of us to pull this lady off of Gus When she was off we breathed with relief Only to realize to our grief That we breathed in that disgusting smell Four of us got dizzy and actually fell Gus was laying, little life remaining and only the driver had CPR training I felt sorry for this poor man as he got close to the stink we could barely stand As Gus awoke he cussed and he spat "Why you kissing me, what's with that?" The poor driver with shocked chagrin stood up as spit drooled off his chin. "Old man, you are taking up too much space This poor lady needs to sit some place." "I bought my friends all their transfers and they won't budge so the problem is hers." "What friends? All any of us see is you I think your mind's just a little skew." "My feet, my legs, my back, my arms, my head are all loyal friends who need a seat if not a bed! I paid for their trip and they should have the right to enjoy their rest without a fight!" The big lady shrieked, "You are a loon!" "And you are a fat filled hot air balloon!" The two of them let insults fly The rest of us, we just stood by I got tired of this whole affair So I got off the bus to breathe fresh air I had enough nonsense for the day So I took to walking the rest of the way I thought, "Those two people shouldn't procreate, Their odors too foul and they're full of hate." A few weeks passed and I got on a bus There was the stinky lady and crazy Gus They sat together, I couldn't understand both of them wearing a wedding band. |
Fortune
I start day fishing in dirty toilet bowl
and know this rough day tax upon my poor soul
I leave the apartment house and go to job.
Neighbor turn nose away, I think she a snob.
I get in car and go, but stop at market
I put dime in meter after I park it
I go in to get a breakfast snack and drink
A punk child in aisle tell me I stink
Then I go out to car but it gone away
I flag down meter maid and tell her I PAY!
And I ask her mad why she had my car towed.
She say I had park too long on side of road.
I look at wrist watch and see it tick no more
so I not knew I eat too long while in store.
I get on bus I see, and go more to work
Some momma tell kid not sit by nasty jerk.
When at my cookie factory, I go out.
"Next time take shower first!" the bus driver shout.
My job is put fortune in Chinese cookie
It most difficult work, too hard for rookie
Bossman give me evil eye and say I late
Say time is dough and he no like to wait
City health inspector come to look around
He come by me but I not make single sound.
He go to boss and whisper, he point at me
This not good sign, I think, but I wait to see
Later on bossman come and say I fired.
Say I not the clean man he thought he hired.
Before I leave door he give me my last buck,
He toss me fortune cookie and say "good luck"
I hang heavy head and walk outside his door
Need wisdom of fortune for I am dirt poor
Crack cookie open and read what ends this rhyme:
"Man who drop watch in toilet have crappy time."
and know this rough day tax upon my poor soul
I leave the apartment house and go to job.
Neighbor turn nose away, I think she a snob.
I get in car and go, but stop at market
I put dime in meter after I park it
I go in to get a breakfast snack and drink
A punk child in aisle tell me I stink
Then I go out to car but it gone away
I flag down meter maid and tell her I PAY!
And I ask her mad why she had my car towed.
She say I had park too long on side of road.
I look at wrist watch and see it tick no more
so I not knew I eat too long while in store.
I get on bus I see, and go more to work
Some momma tell kid not sit by nasty jerk.
When at my cookie factory, I go out.
"Next time take shower first!" the bus driver shout.
My job is put fortune in Chinese cookie
It most difficult work, too hard for rookie
Bossman give me evil eye and say I late
Say time is dough and he no like to wait
City health inspector come to look around
He come by me but I not make single sound.
He go to boss and whisper, he point at me
This not good sign, I think, but I wait to see
Later on bossman come and say I fired.
Say I not the clean man he thought he hired.
Before I leave door he give me my last buck,
He toss me fortune cookie and say "good luck"
I hang heavy head and walk outside his door
Need wisdom of fortune for I am dirt poor
Crack cookie open and read what ends this rhyme:
"Man who drop watch in toilet have crappy time."
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