Here are a few favorites written by yours truly.
Far Too Frank – Madness! Poetry 2020
Little Frankie had a knack for being far too frank. He’d tell you, “Hey, your fly is down,” or “Wow, your singing stank.”
This harsh affront was always blunt,
He said a lot without much thought.
Like – if you passed a little gas, he’d gag and say, “That’s rank.”
Then Frankie came upon a man who stood at six foot nine.
“You’re a monster!” Frankie yelled. (This time he’d crossed the line.)
The man got mad and grabbed the lad,
And tossed him, THUD, into some mud.
Frankly it’s not smart to be that frank with Frankenstein.
First Flight – Madness! Poetry 2020
“I’m begging,” said Percival, “please, pretty please. A bird’s gotta fly through the sky like a breeze.
Mama, I’m old enough. Just let me go.”
Poor little Percival – Mama said, “No.”
“I’m hindered,” cried Percival, “hobbled and hampered!
A brave guy like me doesn’t need to be pampered.
Papa, my wings yearn to feel the air… So?”
Poor little Percival – Papa said, “No.”
“I’m ready,” said Percival. “Just watch me flap.”
Mama and Papa said, “Time for your nap.”
“I won’t sleep a wink if you don’t tell me why!”
“Poor little Percival, penguins don’t fly.”
(Now read the next poem to see how Percival’s story ends!)
Percival Penguin Persists – Madness! Poetry 2020
Percival – a paragon of perfect penguin prowess, a fine example showing what persistence will allow us.
He persevered no matter what, and vowed to never stop.
Like from the day he yearned to fly, he knew he’d land on top.
See, as a lad, his mom and dad said, “Penguins cannot fly.”
He heard their words but thought, Absurd! It never hurts to try.
So everyday he trained and practiced, making muscles grow.
Push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, wing-ups (fifty in a row).
Then came the day to show the world that he was strong enough.
He climbed the highest berg and leapt –
but landed on his duff.
He hopped right up and brushed his bum and said, “It’s time to train,
but this time I will reach the sky by working-out my brain.”
He went to school to learn a slew of aeronautic things.
His studies showed him how to best adapt his tiny wings.
No longer in the flightless world that penguins all are trapped in,
he steers an airplane through the sky as Percival the Captain!
A Long Hard Life – Madness! Poetry 2021
Life is hard when you’re a rock. It’s more than I can take.
Water, wind, and eons wear me
down. I NEED A BREAK!
Avalanches buried me.
Lava made me crack.
Glaciers are the reason why
my back is out of whack.
Once a boy collected me,
but tossed me when he grew.
And I was swallowed by a moose,
and came out in it’s… (Never mind.)
A river dumped me in the sea
where battered, chipped, and more,
I was crushed into a pebble,
thrown upon the shore.
At last, I lie upon the sand,
my heart filled with elation.
It only took a billion years –
to earn this beach vacation.
A Worm’s Tale – Madness! Poetry 2021 & featured in Better Than Starbucks Vol VI No III
Wormington Wormbert McWormy the Third was tired of dodging each rain-boot and bird.
And worse than those obstacles, what really hurt
was dragging his squishy-soft body through dirt.
The dirt’s packed with rocks that are pointy and jabby.
He ended each day feeling bashed up and scabby.
So Wormington vowed to his friends, “I won’t settle
for anything less than a suit made of metal!”
He went to his workshop and started to weld,
and dreamed of the life that his future self held—
a life without bandages, ointments or creams,
just armor that thwarted the harshest extremes.
He pounded and forged at a lighting-fast pace,
till each bit of metal fit right into place.
When finished, it made all the other worms squeal.
A veritable fortress of rivets and steel!
An excellent shield from each rock, bird and boot.
Nothing could pierce his impervious suit.
“Look, I’m invincible,” Wormington cheered,
but being the only one felt kind of weird.
So Wormington said, “I will build suits for all,
‘cause no worm should ever feel helpless and small.”
So now the world’s home to more clanking than squirming—
a new world-wide problem they call global worming.
(Now read the next poem to see how Wormington’s story ends!)
Wormington the Hero – Madness! Poetry 2021
Wormington the worm was known for being very clever, for he was the inventor of the coolest worm stuff ever.
His claim to fame was something that he built with loving care—
A billion suits of metal armor, worms were proud to wear.
Armor that could fend off weather, predators, and feet.
Suits that changed those squirmy lives – from treacherous to sweet.
But through it all, shy Wormington, stayed humble, mild, and kind.
He much preferred to work at home where he could just unwind.
But then, one fateful day, the world awoke to quite a fright.
Aliens were stealing human beings left and right.
The president told everyone to simply, “Go along,”
but Wormington, he had a hunch that this advice was wrong.
So Wormington accessed the Oval Office through a vent.
While there, a water glass was broken by the president.
The president then swept the pieces off the tabletop,
a tiny shard then pricked his thumb—out oozed a yellow drop.
A fact’s a fact, no human being is a yellow bleeder…
A SPACEMAN DOPPELGÄNGER HAD BEEN POSING AS OUR LEADER!
Wornington slid out the back and raced to find a phone.
He quickly dialed every worm that he had ever known.
“Bring your armor, bring your courage, bring your ten best friends.
Worms unite! We’ll save our homes before this long day ends.”
A billion worms sprung from the ground and each was clad in steel
The aliens were quite surprised, but fought back with some zeal.
The tiny armor easily resisted laser rays.
The aliens were baffled by their wily wormy ways.
Overwhelmed, The aliens, let out a mighty scoff.
They loaded up their saucers with a— “3, 2, 1, BLAST OFF!”
A celebration swept the lands from sea to sea to sea,
and even quiet Wormington allowed himself a, “Whee.”
The president (the real one now) gave Wormington a medal.
Exhausted, Wormington sneaked home, so he could softly settle.
He watched the nightly news to see just how the day unfurled,
and every headline praised him saying, He’s Out of This World!
This humorous description left him giggling with mirth
for Womington, like every worm was plainly…
down to earth.
Stealing Thunder – The championship winning poem for Madness! Poetry 2021
Little Thor was working on his very first storm ever. This would be his chance to show that he was brave and clever.
Since Odin was his father he had quite a lot to prove.
The kingdom would be judging every teeny-tiny move.
But all the while, his brother’s constant lurking made him dizzy,
“Loki, will you go away, I’m clearly very busy.”
“Fine,” said Loki “You’ll be sorry. Oh, and you’re a jerk.”
Thor whacked him with a lightning bolt and then got back to work.
He hand-picked every twister ‘cause he liked them rough and tough,
He also raced the wind each day, till it was fast enough.
He carved a million hail stones—they’d be used in huge amounts.
The rain was given pep talks “Fellas, every drop here counts!”
He polished every lightning bolt and fluffed up every cloud,
Most of all, he loved his thunder which was very loud.
No—more than loud—calamitous—no that word’s still too tame—
a catastrophic roar that put all other sounds to shame.
The day had finally come for Thor to stage his epic show.
All his friends and family gathered. “3, 2, 1, and GO!”
He started off with sleet and hail to dazzle and amaze.
He then unleashed his lightning bolts—they set the sky ablaze.
And for the big finale, with a move both grand and lush,
He cued the thunder with both arms, and…
nothing but a hush.
The crowd fell into silence as they watched his awkward blunder.
Odin rose and said, “It’s just, we all expected thunder.”
Thor was looking everywhere, he had get this right.
When Loki sneaked out through the crowd and giggled with delight.
He set the thunder loose which he’d been hiding in his pocket.
POOOOOOOW! The thunder blasted like a supersonic rocket.
The crowd was flabbergasted by the cataclysmic rumbling.
They turned to Loki, “YOU’RE THE BEST!”
and Thor just sat there grumbling.
Thor, he kicked a lighting bolt and then began to run,
and Loki quickly realized the damage he had done.
“Stop!” said Loki. “Please, don’t go. You know you’re my best friend!
I’ll confess my trickery to bring this to an end.
“I only stole your thunder ‘cause I’d love to be like you.
Say that you’ll forgive me or I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“I guess,” said Thor, “I could have been a little more inviting.
Just look around, you clearly made this dull day more exciting.”
Now, they’re rarely seen apart and trouble is their norm.
Those boys could change the world by simply laughing up a storm!
Cough and Sneeze – Featured in Today’s Little Ditty
Cough and Sneeze are a terrible two,
wanted on charges of cold, strep, and flu.
Cough is the brawn, so victims take note,
he’ll rough up your lungs and plunder your throat.
Sneeze is impulsive, the sneak of the pair,
with rash wild sprays he graffitis the air.
Their victims can often take weeks to regroup,
so lock up your doors and stock up on soup.
PAPA SLIME! – Featured in Today’s Little Ditty
Ding dong
“Gerry,” Mom twitters, “that sounds like the chime.
Would you be so kind as to get Papa Slime?”
Just what is she saying? Who can this Slime be?
He sounds like some mutant from deep in the sea.
Or maybe a ghoul from some bottomless caves.
Regardless, I’m sure it’s my brain that he craves.
Diiing dooong
“Gerry.” says Mom, “Where’s your reason and rhyme?
Just answer the doorbell. We need Papa Slime.”
My parents have lost it or possibly worse,
I’m thinking they’re under this Papa Slime’s curse.
He’ll rip me to bits (what a terrible guest),
then stomp on the pieces and feast on the rest.
Diiiiiiiiiiiing doooooooooong
“Gerald Jay Jones! I won’t ask one more time.
Now open that door and receive Papa Slime!”
I sink to the carpet and slink ‘cross the room,
then fling the door open expecting my doom.
It’s only my neighbor (he’s gentle and cute),
and there in his hands is a little green fruit.
He smiles. “Hey Gerry, you’re moving so slowly-
Your dad needs this lime for his fresh guacamole.”
Oops! Now I get it – there’s no Papa Slime.
My mom simply asked me to get Papa’s lime.