Okay, so it’s not like I have nothing to do. I have plenty to do, but most of it is outside and it’s just too hot for that right now. I can do some of it when it cools down. In the meantime, I’m quite bored.
So, what to blog about. Hey, I’m gonna fish for comments here, okay? Ready? Here it goes…
Please leave a comment to this blog so that I know who reads these.
Sooooo maybe I can whip up a random little poem off the top of my head. Let’s give that a shot. I’ll write it about stuff I see on my desk!
A stack of hard drives, mostly old.
A roll of TP, ’cause I have a cold.
I have a lamp, for when it is dark,
And a cup full of Sharpies for making a mark.
A microphone, for talking to friends.
I like how it has a long neck that bends.
Of course, can’t forget, my keyboard and mouse,
And my speakers you can hear anywhere in the house.
Other random stuff, some of this and some of that.
I keep my ring here, because my finger’s too fat.
My bluetooth headset, which I rarely use.
My two flat monitors, because I like dual views.
Some vitamin C and a bottle of water.
The remote for the cooler, for when it gets hotter.
Some graph paper here, for taking a note.
An inhaler for opening up my sore throat.
My sunglasses, which normally go on my head.
A mechanical pencil with .7mm lead.
There’s more on my desk I can tell you about,
But I’m over this poem. See ya later. I’m out.
G i f t E x c h a n g e
Yesterday the sun shone bright
Upon my face, and at the sight
I found myself alone to be
Encompassed by a misery
A feeling here, a feeling gone.
With borders sure as right and wrong
I lay my frozen heart aside
To live the life my mind hath lied.
Today the sun shines not upon
This face that bears that which is gone,
Yet light from that which calms the soul
Shall warm my heart and make it whole.
I take these hands that dig my grave
And lift my mind, the blinded slave.
I leave it at a throne of grace;
A withered heart to take its place.
Tomorrow, though be yet to come,
Stories love can tell us from.
Be them dreams, or lifeless tales,
To God, my life, my life that fails.
A man within, a man without.
A man with all that he can doubt.
‘Tis I, no less than he alone,
The man that falleth short the throne.
note: I wrote this poem many years ago
A giant box of toothpaste
One less than three plus four
A calculator tells the time
He’s knocking on the door
I made myself a fishie
Don’t tell yourself a lie
Three keys on an onion ring
A heaping pot of pie
Riot in the streets
The story of a chair
More beautiful than chins
But uglier than hair
I like the way you walk
There’s a speaker on the roof
Today’s the day for daily stuff
That movie’s just a spoof
What’s the deal with Edgar
Email is my friend
Don’t look now but here it comes
The beginning of the end
I’m really not sure what to say
For the first “Random Poetry” today
But I’m sure I’ll find a way
To get it done anyway
I’m trying to come up with a creative post
Y’know, the kind that people kinda like the most
Something I can be proud of, but not so I can boast
So far my posts are as entertaining as cheese toast
Cheese toast is actually really pretty great
I like it with garlic, and served on a plate
Making it is fun, but I sure hate the wait
If I were a fish, you could use cheese toast as bait
Lucky for me, I’m not really a fish
Otherwise I might be served on a dish
With tartar sauce made from mayo and relish
No matter the case, I’m sure I’d be delish.
I guess this will be my last stanza
You might as well go watch reruns of Bonanza
Or Seinfeld, the show featuring George Costanza
Just make it a syndicate rerun extravaganza