Friday, December 16, 2011

Oh, The Things I Have Seen

by James von Dielingen


Oh, the things that I've seen that I won't see again
Like a yeti devouring an old yellow hen
Or a shark flying high in the overcast sky
Eating eagles and hawks as they swiftly fly by
Or a small baby scientist mixing his potions
Like explosive formula and teddy bear lotions
Or dancing mosquitoes as big as a bear
With top hats that cover their coarse, prickly hair
Or gators that belch hot lavender flames
And play with Rudolph in his reindeer games
Or pickles that march in military formation
Solving one massive mathematical diff’rential equation
Or talking sombreros with lively debates
About current events and old potentates
Or line dancing pistols with fish in their barrels
Grooving to badly remixed Christmas Carols
I tell you I've seen them, I know how it seems
But they all exist, really, and not in my dreams
They followed me home from the dentist last week
After having to go under so I wouldn’t shriek
What? You think the gas made my mind foggy?
Come to think of it, yes, I did feel somewhat groggy.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Chicken-Fried Worms

by James von Dielingen

Our Mom's a little crazy, we love her anyway
But we're all a bit concerned about the lunch she served today
We usually have normal food, like hot dogs on our plates
But today we're getting something new I feel might tempt our fates
It looks a bit spaghetti-ish with breading on the noodles
And instead of marinara, there is gravy by the oodles
I fear the food might come to life and wriggle, writhe and squirm
Because my loving mother chose to serve Chicken-Fried Worms
I scrunched my forehead in attempt to understand the food
I waited for my brother to try and see if it was good
He held is breath, and closed his eyes, and in his mouth it went
I strained to figure out what his facial reaction meant
He paused his chewing, dropped his fork, and relaxed his squinting eyes
And he nodded twice and swallowed hard and looked kind of surprised
He liked the worms and so I thought that maybe they were great
But I couldn't shake the feeling I was eating seafood bait
I braced myself and stabbed a few and popped them in my maw
I had to slurp to keep the worms from falling from my craw
Lo and behold, I liked the worms, they tasted pretty swell
My mother was not quite so nuts as far as I could tell
My lunch was tasty, but I'd like a few friends to confirm
So, I'm asking you to dinner for left-over Chicken-Fried Worms

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Huxley the Hermit

by James von Dielingen

Asleep on the floor of the world's largest ocean
Within a house that was not his own
Making nary a sound and nary a motion
Was a crab named Huxley who lived all alone

He liked it that way, in fact he preferred it
The alternative he saw as a horrible plight
For you see, this crab was known as a Hermit
Being alone in his shell made him feel just right

Huxley awoke with a loud, growling tummy
He said, "I must hurry and be first to the reef!
A little seaweed before dawn would be yummy.
My sharp hunger pangs are in need of relief!"

So away Huxley went to the bright, rosy coral
to get his first meal before the best bits were gone
He liked to be early to avoid any quarrel
With other sea creatures who wake up at dawn

He thrust out his claw to grasp onto a sprig
and snip it from where it was tangled
But Huxley soon felt a sharp pain that was big
his right claw was horribly mangled

For coral, you see, is quite risky to live on
Each piece of it quite sharp and cutting
And all of the billions of tiny, young sea spawn
are careful to avoid sharp coral juttings

The one day that Huxley forgot to be cautious
For once he was bold and brash
he was injured enough to make him feel nauseous
and break out into a big rash

About that time, the sea began to awaken
with schools of fish and such life
And Huxley saw all the best weed getting taken
while his pain still cut like a knife.

"Help me!" he yelled, "I've been cut by the reef,
and now I can't get myself food!"
But no one responded to his cries of grief
and this put Huxley in a worse mood

He grumbled and moaned as he wrapped up his claw
in a piece of seaweed from the ground
It was not fit to nibble or gnaw
so he wrapped his claw round and around

Huxley, you see, was an old right-clawed crab
His left claw was sorely neglected
It looked rather weak and its color was drab
Its size was less than expected

He clipped and he snipped at the seaweed in vain
His south paw was not up to snuff
The seaweed withstood his left-clawed strain
until Huxley had quite had enough

Again he cried, "Help me! I can't get a meal!
My poor claw is throbbing and hurt!"
No fish, gold or jelly, nor plankton nor eel
would respond to his crustacean alert

Mealtime was over and everyone left
to go about all their own days
while Huxley remained, of vittles bereft
and his mind in a sort of a haze

"My blood sugar's too low, this simply won't do,
I've got to get hold of some grub!
But how can I get some, I haven't a clue!"
He slumped and then sighed with a “Glub!”

Lunchtime came around and so did the diners
The anemones all swayed in the wake
Lobsters on lunch break, parents with their minors
All arrived to see what they could take

Huxley cried out again with no help
he was about to give up and go
when off in the distance beyond all the kelp
he saw something curious that puzzled him so

He saw someone else who was quite like he was
Except without a keen shell
He was mystified by this new crab because
It was homeless as far as he could tell

“I believe she is naked!” he said with a yip
“I cannot believe what I see!”
“She has no home with her on her trip!
She looks much more pitiful than me!”

“Ho there!” he yelled at the approaching female
“You haven’t a shell on your back?
If you cannot find one or buy one on sale
You might try a big burlap sack.

You can’t walk around with no house on your back.
I may know a place you could nab one.
It wouldn’t be great or without hole or crack,
But you should at least have a drab one.”

The she-crab replied, “Thanks for your suggestion,
But I’m much happier out of my shell.
I travel a lot and there’s really no question
That shell-less I’m swift as a bounding gazelle.

I appreciate your candor; you’re quite a nice chap.
Your shell appears tidy and clean.
A home on my back would feel more like a trap,
And to me that would not be so keen.”

Huxley retorted, “But you are indecent!
Where can you hide from the ocean?
I myself have injured my claw as of recent,
And no one responds to my commotion.

I plan to pick up some scraps from floor,
And into my shell will I curl.
I’ll pray that the current won’t wash me ashore.
Sometime you should give it a whirl.”

“I just couldn’t do that.” The traveler said,
“It’s just much more splendid outside.
I think you should come out, not just your head,
And see what’s in store in the tide.

My name is Hannah, in case you were curious,
I’m friend of the fish and the eel.
I realize you see the world as injurious,
But I think it’s much more genteel.

Come out here my friend, and greet the blue water.
Say hi to the fish and sea turtles.
Shake hands with anemones and the sea otters,
And jump over your greatest of hurdles.”

“But what of my home?” Huxley inquired,
“What shall I do with my stuff?
Where will I sleep when it’s night and I’m tired?
Sleeping outside is simply too rough!”

“You can keep your shell,” Hannah responded
“Just don’t live your life in the gloom.
I feel I can tell you this now that we’ve bonded,
At night you can return to your room.

Be on alert when you’re away from your home,
And always be aware of strangers.
Avoid sea anemones with poisoned combs,
And tentacled jellyfish dangers.

As you can see, making friends would be preferred
To trying to go it alone.
Your cries for assistance would not go unheard,
And you’d not have cry out and moan.”

Huxley crept out of his shell with some nerves
He wasn’t quite sure what to do
He felt he should get the food that he deserves
And his courage grew and grew

With a friend close by, Huxley proceeded
To float up from out of his shell
In getting some seaweed, he soon succeeded
And then he began to yell

“Yee haw! I do believe this weed is better
Than that which I get from the floor!
I don’t know why I was such a big fretter!
I do believe I’ll have some more!

Thank you, kind Hannah, for making me see
That out here is not quite so bad.
I just thought that out here there was not much for me,
And I lived alone grumpy and mad.

I’ll make more friends than you could imagine.
I’ll be the most popular guy
In all the reef than there ever has been!
I’m finished being lonely and shy!”

“That’s the spirit!” Hannah replied
“I do believe my work is done.
I’m glad that you will no longer hide,
Having friends with you is much more fun.

I have an idea, you should come with me?
I’d love to have someone along!
We could visit all of the sites in the sea
From New York to Rome to Hong Kong!”

Huxley replied, “That would be splendid!
Whole vistas are opening wide!
I’m glad that this new friendship isn’t now ended,
Let’s get washed away in the tide!”

So away Huxley went on this brand new endeavor
Forgetting his claw was a wreck
He followed Hannah just about wherever
She happily happened to trek

Bellybutton Lint

by James von Dielingen

Is it weird that I wanna eat my bellybutton lint?
Wrap it in spaghetti noodles, flavor it with mint
Stack it between slices of a bread and butter pickle
And flour it with breadcrumbs from a loaf of pumpernickel
Cook it in a frying pan with earthworms from the dirt
And just a hint of citrus from a can of Diet Squirt
Fry it up until it gets that crispy golden batter
And place it on a fancy painted gilded serving platter
Hold on, I just heard it, I'm starting to get the hint
That it IS weird that I want to eat my bellybutton lint

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Terror

by James von Dielingen

I am the man with the chalky-white skin
With long yellow nails and large gruesome grin
I am the eyes glowing deep in the trees
With a low rumbling growl that weakens your knees
I am the face that you saw in the mirror
That’s gone in a glance and leaves you in terror
I am the tingle you feel on your neck
I pull softly away when you reach up to check
I am the one drooling puddles of spit
Just behind the door where the light isn’t lit
I am the footsteps you hear in the hall
When you’re home alone with no one to call
I am the doll sitting still on the shelf
That you know looked your way and sat up by itself
I’m every weird sound and each chilling aberration
And here's who I am, I’m your imagination

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Soul Eater

by Ivan Handress (not a real person)

I ate the soul of my fallen foe
It escaped him through his eye
How fitting for his essence to be
The final sight you espy
I picked it up as it clawed to escape
It screeched a horrible cry
But your soul is my bloody reward
For causing you fools to die

*Publisher's note: This is a joke poem, not to be taken seriously!!!* 

I Die To Live

by Ivan Handress (not a real person)

I die to live
I die to die
The blackest heart
Shall come to cry
My grave will live
My grave will die
Come dance on it
It shant belie
The truth that lived
And died with me
My danced-on grave
Shall make them see

*Publisher's note: This is a joke poem, not to be taken seriously!!!*

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Doughnuts in the Breakroom

by James von Dielingen

Doughnuts in the break room! Get one if you can
Before they are all eaten by a rather hefty man
I think he lives inside the room and waits for some free vittles
Which he eats in one or two bites to fill up his girth-y middles
You're telling me that's not the case? It's just a hungry staff
Who scarf  the grub in well under a minute and a half?
Wow, these starving people didn't eat breakfast, I bet
So, instead they gobble the snacks I'm never fast enough to get

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Billy Bob and Jimmy Joe

by James von Dielingen 

Billy Bob and Jimmy Joe were fightin' over nuttin'
Billy Bob said Jimmy Joe had stolen his new button
Jimmy Joe said Billy Bob was crazy for accusin'
And that he was about to get a royal Jimmy bruisin'
Billy Bob would not let up until Jimmy Joe fessed up
And admitted that he stole the button and thereby he messed up
Jimmy Joe was so mad he was gonna blow a sprocket
He said that Billy Bob should check his own overall pocket
Billy Bob said that he had already checked it twice
But agreed to check it once again just to be very nice
He stuck his hand into the top and out the bottom popped
The very fingers that the pocket lining should have stopped
I do believe you owe me an apology,” jimmy quipped
But I'll help you in your search until each rock is rightly flipped.”
They searched the barnyard high and low and each place they'd been workin'
They simply had no idea where the button might be lurkin'
They took a rest for just a bit under their favorite tree
Jimmy Joe saw a glint of light and wondered what it could be
Billy jumped around for joy when he saw his brand new button
And apologized to Jimmy for fightin' over nuttin'

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Shelby McFarland

by James von Dielingen

Shelby McFarland
Was such a sweet darlin'
She always did what was told

She milked the cows
And slopped the sows
When she was just three years old

When she turned four
She declared, "No more!"
So her parents traded her for gold

Friday, July 8, 2011

Butterbur Butterfly

by James von Dielingen

Butterbur Butterfly lived on the road
Never sticking around to pay money he owed
He was the toughest ole bug that you ever did see
Even though he measured just two inches or three
He spat and chewed chaw and drank much too much nectar
And hid from the law like an invisible specter
He'd beat you up good with his big, buff wing muscles
He wouldn't avoid any ring-dang-do tussles
I saw him throw a ladybug straight through a window
With a swagger not unlike Mr. Delroy Lindo
Butterbur lived with a broken proboscis
Which he got after fighting a three ton colossus
He tried to dive bomb the giant right in his eye
But missed by an inch and this is no lie
He hit that giant square in his forehead
And the hulking Goliath just fell straight down dead
Nobody messed with ole Butterbur
That he was the toughest,  you can be sure
So, if you want to get beat up or die
Tug on the antennae of Butterbur Butterfly