The Best Stuff Written Since Shakespeare (except perhaps Shel Silverstein...)

The Color Red

My head's not red
nor is my bed
Someone once said
that when you're dead
you're red
well you're not, you're black
and covered with maggots

Cheese (written at age 9-- really!)

Cheese Please
Cheese Please
I don't want no peas please
I just want some cheese please

Thinking of Scully

I do take and hour a week to enjoy the X-Files. What can I say? It's an entertaining show... I suppose I was simply inspired

Lived a lad long ago known as Mulder
With muscles as hefty as boulders
And while sitting at home
He felt so alone
that he picked up his phone and he called 'er

Life in a Hostel

I used my tattered poetic licence to pronounce the word castle, CAH-sle for the sake of the rhyme. And the damn thing still doesn't rhyme!

Life in a hostel is quiet and docile
While life in a castle is filled up with jostle
and offers of wassail
and mussels
and puzzles
So when the question is raised: Where shall I live?
In a castle?
or hostel?
The answer is facile!
Live in a hostel.

And Her Throat Hurt When She Screamed

(This was a title challange-- my friend gave me this title and I had to write the poem!)

The lady dreamed
or so it seemed
of an spaceship beam
and an alien green
She turned to her husband
"Twas only a dream!"
Then screamed
for he was green
and smiling
(her throat hurt, by the way)