Tag Archives: Poem

Poetic Bumble

A couple of quick things today, dudes. I’ve got a poem and a cute bumble bee.

No, seriously. The bumble bee is really very cute, especially for what it does.

You know what? Let’s just go to the video and let you decide for yourself.

See? I told you it was cute. I mean, how often do we get to see a bee give some guy’s finger the high-five?

Now for something a little more. . . somber. It’s a touching poem by a dude named Raul Gutierrez, who has a 3-year-old child. Lately, Raul has been keeping track of some of the more. . . wobbly bits he’s been telling the little dude. It’s a wonderful little piece that ends with an amazing stinger, one worthy of a high-fiving bee.

Get ready to feel your sensawonda get kicked up a notch or three and then get kicked in the nads. Just a warning. Watch out for that last line. Still, a very moving poem.

Lies I’ve told my 3 year old recently

Trees talk to each other at night.

All fish are named either Lorna or Jack.

Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose.

Tiny bears live in drain pipes.

If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky.

The moon and the sun had a fight a long time ago.

Everyone knows at least one secret language.

When nobody is looking, I can fly.

We are all held together by invisible threads.

Books get lonely too.

Sadness can be eaten.

I will always be there.

Yeah. See what I mean?

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Of Explanations And Excuses

A little bit of one, but not so much of the other.

So I just got back from spending time out in Dallas to visit the original Dude, my Dad. He and his wife hosted me out at their home for a very long weekend. I went home, well, the one place where I lived with family the longest until I came here to Charlotte, to attend the wedding of a friend of mine.

Fireman Dave and I have been friends since elementary school. Which, just for those of you who don’t know, is a long time ago. Maybe not that long, but certainly not last week.

Anyway.

I went back to Dallas and did not bring my laptop. I was going to try keeping up using only an iPad or other similar items. Just so you know? The iPad didn’t work at all well when I was trying to update the site.

For everything else, the brilliant little device worked, well, brilliantly. For the Guide? Crap. Not sure what that’s trying to tell us, but there it is. All of which helps to explain why I’ve not been here in a while.

The wedding was fantastic. Fireman Dave and His Beloved Sherri made for a great couple. It also made for an interesting wedding.

I don’t call Fireman Dave a fireman for nothing. He really is a firefighter with the Dallas Fire Department. So there were a bunch of folks from his house there. Imagine, a room full of firefighters. Professionals.

Then the fire alarm goes off. Blaring sirens, strobing lights, all that jazz. It spoke to something deep inside each and every one of us, telling us it was time to go, run for the hills and don’t stop.

No one, and I mean no one, no civilian, no firefighter, no one, so much as flinched.

The music played on. The dancing continued, only with a different beat, and not a single person headed toward the door.

This lasted for all of about five minutes when the DJ announced that, sorry, but we had to evacuate the building.

It turns out, there really was no fire. The DJ had set off a fog machine a few minutes before the alarm triggered. Turns out fog machines and smoke alarms don’t get along all that well.

We had to trudge out into the night, which, thankfully wasn’t the frigid night before, and stand around and talk for a while. Just long enough, in fact, for a fire truck to cruise by — no lights or sirens — and then flip on all the noisemakers and light shows right next to the party. I figure it was someone stopping by to say hello to Fireman Dave on the night of his nuptials.

Long story short, great party. I got to read a epithalamium, which for the approximately 99.96 percent of you who don’t know what that is (and I include myself in that large percentage, or I did until my dad dropped the word on me), means a song or poem in honor of a bride or groom.

It was a poem. Recited to the tune of The Ballad of Jed Clampet. No, really.

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Ode To His PS3

by Richard

An ode is basically a poem, along the lines of “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” That sort of thing.

Now, normally, this sort of ode thing is written, if not to one you love, then to at least something warm-blooded with which you can snuggle and exchange sweet nothings.

Not necessarily, though. Hyper Lad, when given the assignment to write an ode for language arts class, did not pick out a special girl, his mom or even his dad (*cough, cough*). No, the young dude chose something much closer to his heart: His PS3 game system.

Without further ado, here, then, is Hyper Lad’s “Ode to my PS3.”

Oh my PS3

What fun we’ve had with you and me

Your free online gaming

Doesn’t deserve any shaming

Your beautiful mix with gaming and blueray

You let me play my favorite game and still let it be movie day

Your elegant slim and black design

It makes you shine

Now it has been a wonderful day

Talking about you in the most wonderful way

But sadly now I have to go

But now I know you are definitely not just for show

I don’t know about you dudes, but I give it an A. Well, I would once I stop laughing.

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