
Sometimes the monster under the bed is you.

No popcorn, no pets
No popcorn, no pets,
No baseball, no regrets,
Rapture to heaven
Is no Seven / Eleven.
No Slushies, no Mars bars,
No pizza, no beer bars.
In heaven, the best
Beat their bloody chests
And sing hosanna
At the absence of fauna.
Nothing to make you sneeze
As you fall to your knees.
Fluffy’s on Earth
About to give birth
And if you want us to care,
Put your money there
On the web site line,
So Fluffy will be fine.
When to heaven you go
But your pets are a no-no,
We will watch them with love
While you’re in heaven above.
We atheists who remain
Or Hindus or Jaynes,
Or Jews or Buddhists
Or even the occasional nudist,
We will take care of your pets
So you’ll have no regrets,
No guilt on your soul,
Because you will know
Your Fuffy is fine
As long as your dimes shine.
070922
Filed under 2022, humor, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, satire, Saturday, Silly Saturday

The Tong Dynasty
King Kong and Godzilla met in a kitchen. /
King Kong heard Godzilla wailin’ and bitchin’. /
“My toast! My toast! I can’t get it out. /
“My toast! My toast! It’s stuck in that snout. /
Every time I reach in sparks fly out. /
Angry it is!” He stomped round about. /
King Kong reached forth with bamboo tongs. /
They grabbed that toast like a pair of thongs. /
Godzilla thanked Kong and went on his way. /
Thus, civilization was saved that day.
.
.
#061821 #King_Kong #Godzilla #tongs #thong #bamboo #toast #toaster #poem #poetry #humor #june #civilization #davidebooker
Filed under 2021, photo, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, Silly Saturday, warning
Filed under 2022, Silly Saturday

Cookie Fails
I have committed all those sins, /
Once and again /
When baking the day away. /
In the kitchen I run /
Mixer, thumb, and hum /
As I try to get the dough my way. /
But, alas, by turns /
Overmixed to burned, /
My baking fails like clay /
Lost on a potter’s wheel /
Self-creation piecemeal /
That has gone astray. /
But fool that I be /
Mount Success for me /
So into the recipe I climb. /
Mix and shape /
Measure and bake /
Then wait again for the timer’s chime.
Then out come my cookies. /
Oh, take a look! See /
How they look divine. /
I sit on my stool, /
Fidgeting until cool, /
Then I dine on this feast of mine.
#032422
Filed under 2022, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, Silly Saturday

Seasonal Greetings
I got a Christmas card from you. /
Now, dang it, I feel obligated to /
Send you one in return, /
A card to make your envy burn. /
Yes, and it will be homemade. /
By my hand, the artistry bade. /
Or maybe something sentimental and rank, /
Since all I draw is to draw a blank.
Filed under 2021, Christmas, photo, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, Silly Saturday

The stack
Book pile grows higher. /
Tree of knowledge overflows /
Into empty rooms.
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #book #pile #room #house #121821 #tree #knowledge #december #friday #davidebooker #2021
Filed under 2021, haiku, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, Silly Saturday

Phraseology
Divide and conquer /
Was not a phrase meant for a /
Tractor trailer bed.
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #poet #writer #writing #tractortrailer #broken #divide #conquer #wreck #break #truck #120418
Filed under 2018, haiku, photo, photo by David E. Booker, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, Silly Saturday

“The day of rest comes but once a week, and sorry am I that it does not come oftener. Man is so constituted that he can stand more rest than this. I often think regretfully that it would have been so easy to have two Sundays in a week, and yet it was not so ordained. The omnipotent Creator could have made the world in three days just as easily as he made it in six, and this would have doubled the Sundays. Still it is not our place to criticize the wisdom of the Creator.” – Reflections on the Sabbath – Mark Twain
Filed under 2021, Saturday story, Silly Saturday