Santa's Helpers

Santa is the big kahuna
The one who makes Christmas roll.
And elves keep all the orders straight
And update the “Naughty” scroll.

But who are all those other guys
Dressed up in stores and plazas?
Are they also working for the boss,
Are they subordinate clauses?

The Hedgehog

A hedgehog sat upon a log
Eating a purple fig.
Soon, all that he had left of it
Was half a purple twig.

Next morning, he arose anew;
Declared that he felt fine.
Except for one development,
He now had purple spines!

Hannah has left Montana

Miley-the-butcher’s shop was too small,

Just a dimple made by a wrecking ball. 

It was all she could do to keep up every day,

She just couldn’t help but get in her own way.

She tried zigging and zagging this way then that,

She took off her apron; tried a new hat,

One day she thought she’d try dancing the twerk,

Backed into the grinder; got behind in her work!

We Still Don't Know Why

No one yet knows why the hen crossed the road.

What could possibly have planted that notion?

But I saw it happen, and even three-toed,

It was poultry in motion  --  poultry in motion!

Snap snap snap snap snap snap snap . . . . . . . 

Swiss Chocolate

Chocolate is all that she wishes

She adores all that Swiss is

I brought her a box

But she quick changed the locks

Guess I’ll go sleep with the Mrs.

Mary Jane Who?

A re- hab center for the upper class

Gave help to many a lad and lass

But it came to an end

When a landscaper friend

Posted signage, “Keep Off the Grass”

Spiced Out

There once was a soldier named Dee

Who fought on the land and the sea

With mustard was gassed,

And pepper spray blast,

A well-seasoned veteran is he.

No Tax Due

I stopped for pint in a mason

He said, “They’ll be no tax today son!

I’m an atheist now,

If yer wondering how,

We’re a non-prophet organization!” *

*  Atheism is a non-prophet organization - George Carlin

Round Table Manners

The roundest knight in Camelot,

(And, I learned this by inference),

Gained his girth by eating PI.

The King dubbed him Sir Cumference!

Litterally Absurd

A dog by the side of the road

Whelped out her cute little load

A copper who saw

Reeled off the law

Cited for littering I’m told

Cultivate Safety

When joining a cult one expects

To link up with those he respects

But some cults are bad

And though it is sad

One must ever practice safe sects!

Getting Ahead

Two hats at a real posh spread

Owned by a baker of bread

One said to the other

“I’ll tell you what brother,

Wait here, I’ll go on a head!”

Baseball Anyone?

I wondered why the balls I see

While standing up to bat with glee

Just keep getting bigger

When pitch pulls the trigger,

Then finally it hits me!

The Envelope

Some things in life are immovable

So tenacious and reactionary. 

No matter how hard you push the envelope

It’ll still remain stationary.

Jeepin'

I was bouncing along down in four-wheel low,

The road was rough and the goin’ was slow,

Now the puddle ahead didn’t seem too deep

Cuz I was ridin’ high, yep I was drivin’ a jeep.

But when I hit that mud now, I started to drift,

So I clutched it hard but I missed my shift.

I was stuck for sure, I couldn’t make it move. 

I weren’t rigged for muddin’, I was stuck in a groove!

Well some good ol’ boys come a ramblin’ along

“We’ll get ya out, but It sure seems wrong.

Next time ya’ll get yourself stuck in a seep

You’ll need a wench on the front of yer jeep!”

Well I washed my rig, cuz I’d just got paid

And headed on in to the big parade.

When I got to town, I was feeling real good

So I picked up my gal and put her up on the hood.

When I turned the bend you should’a heard ‘em yell

To look at my Rosie up there shakin’ her tail.

Them good ol’ boys were goin’ beep, beep, beep

Cuz I had a wench on the front of my jeep!

My Joy Overflowing

You know the sound.
That whooshing whine of the toilet tank refilling.
You know it’s bound 
To stop eventually, so you go about your milling.
Subconscious warnings,
Pushed aside as your need to write starts growing.
Lost in yarning,
It’s not just your joy that is overflowing!

Count Your Blessings

Modern man, with his well-laid plans
Can aspire to a stately mount!
In democracy, there is always hope
For it is his vote that counts!

But the lowly serf, just digging turf
Is destined to live with goats.
For in his feudal society
It is only his Count that votes!

The Backward Poet

He wakes every morning at a nine quarter past

And lanes down the stroll to his box mail.

But, finding none there he home saunters fast

For his fast break is hot, getting stale.

Over gravy and biscuits and a tea cup of hot

He reads the news local review

But the paper news columns are jumbled and fraught

With stories of bad not good news.

Selling poems for a living, this renowned is a man

Who’s tangled up think mind’s a curse.

How does this poet make sense of a plan?

Why it’s simple, he just writes inverse!

COCK OF THE WALK

Its time that I were exercising 
The art of pigeon sex surmising
Here, in my lofty pigeon pen.
Be they cock, or dainty hen?

Is this a male? I answer “Yes!”
Truth be told, its just a guess.
He drags his tail, and struts his stuff,
He bows his head and acts real tough!

So I surmise, ‘A handsome cock!’
Imagine my bewildered shock,
How can it be? I humbly beg.
This cock of mine just laid an egg!

Still in Love

  

Charles was a Harvard man,
As straight as straight can be.

Daisy was a red-neck girl
From Backwoods, Tennessee.

One fateful day Chuck lost his way;
Was lost for nigh a week

‘Til Daisy found him lyin’ there
Beside the muddy creek.

Daisy took that Harvard man
And patched his wounds and clothes,

And fed him moonshine for a month
 'Til that couple was betrothed.

He knew that it would never work,
But leavin’ made him ill.

She was just a Backwoods girl
But oh, he loved her still!