Your Biggest Fan

You know, I'm your biggest fan.
And while the case it that most fans blow,
I'll be the kind that is helpful,
To help to help you go.

And when those skies fill up with clouds
That are all stormy and gray,
I guess that's when I can blow,
And make the clouds go away.

Sure, I know that fan
Is really short for "fanatic,"
But I can also be the kind
That oscillates, automatic.

And also the kind that helps
You when you're down,
And the kind that turns a smile
From a frown.

Hypnosis

There is a hypnotic spell
Upon me, I think, don't you agree?
Can you see it? Is it working?
Will it make me feel unwell?

My eyes, normally dots,
Or pupils and irises,
Become swirling vortexes,
When the hypnosis starts.

And my will is not my own.
"Yes, master." "No master."
Like an automaton.
Or an automatic voice on the phone.

What triggers this hypnosis?
Why, I suppose it's you.
Whenever you're near.
Sometimes I want to buy you roses.

S'ain't Monday

The day of the moon, it shines once again
Trying to convince me that it is my friend.
But I must say this, that after Sunday,
I should be entitled to a St. Monday.

Why do people try to get done
Anything this day other than fun?
Everybody's tired, so don't pretend
That a two days makes for an adequate weekend.

It's not just a return to the rigmarole,
Nor the feeling that we're prisoners stuck on pa(y)role(/l).
It's just the same the things we miss
When we go to work, leaving home with a kiss.

I am certain fewer would be annoyed
If they found they could last as self-employed,
And never have to leave their homes
Or be forced to toil alone.

Little Kisses

Little kisses, lipstick red,
On face and hands and neck and head,
Are silk, and smooth, and not ignored.
Aching muscles made de-sored.

A line of red, like mapped trails,
Upon a canvas (but not a canvas of sails),
Leads to treasures, to the lot,
Revealing that x-marks-the-spot.

The Colors of the Main-bow

There are times when some men think
That they cannot get away with wearing pink.
But think of all the other colors they wear
To match their eyes, or shoes, or hair.

Have you ever seen a macho dude
Decked out in pastels, or baby-blued?
Or, a Vikings fan, bedecked in purple
From the top of his head, down to his murple.

So, why do they consider a man a fink
When he wears a light red, a pale scarlet, a pink.
So, my suggestion, while it may seem sissy
Is to don something pink, and ignore being called "missy,"

For what differentiates a man in one color
Than any other shade, lighter or duller?
And need you an excuse for dressing this kind,
Merely tell nay-sayers, "Aren't all men colorblind?"

To Choose

I wish I could,
Thinking, I should,
Or should I?
I can't decide.

It's the clock
On the wall
And the seconds
Fall.

I fail,
Wail,
Or chase my tail.
No sail.

Tacking, backing,
Ever packing
It in,
For the win.

For the lose.
I must chose
Between working life
And loving wife.

I chose you.

The Busy Student

You, you know, have quite a bit
Of work you do, how do you do it?
Unless, you never sleep, only sit.

Maybe it's a special rite,
At least, allowing you to work through the night,
Killing not, I hope, nor even a blight,
Either that, or not a mortal fight.

Make it so, and your work is done.
Even if the journey was not that fun.

Silver lights, they bellow down
Over that lonely little frown.

Perhaps you've a super power:
Roses are red, and they are your flower.
Open the buds, and the petals, they shower
Up from above, as if from a tower.
Done with your work, without even a glower.

(You make me so proud)

Mrs. Me

I misses you,
My Mrs. Me.
When we're apart
I long to be

With you.

I muster strength.
It's killing me
To be away,
So far, to be

From you.

I cannot wait
To come on home.
At that time,
I'll not be alone

For you.

And at that time,
All things are good,
Just like they
Always should.

Hey you.

When Tlaloc Doesn't Rock

Rain, rain, go away.
And maybe come around laters,
When I'm safe and sound, under ground,
You can rain upon the skaters.

Please don't rain on me,
Or on my sweet little wife
Who's stuck at school, so uncool,
Freezing off her life.

Please stop raining on us
When we're in the car.
The wipers cast at maximum blast,
But we're not getting very far.

Please cease raining,
Until we can get inside,
And be dry, and three stories high,
And not have soaking hide.

Hazy Days

If you work too hard,
You might just find
That things are not at all
That well-defined.

If you stay up late,
The days, the blur,
And become a smudge,
A haze, a slur.

Only with order
Can the passage of days
Make things clearer,
And less of a haze.

But at times,
That's out of the question,
As the work weighs heavy,
And becomes time's sequestrion.

Lord of the Wings

Ambdro Flagon and Hamsize Baggie
Needed to find the Wings of Power,
So, they rode their steed, humble Tinkerfax
Past the Field of Flower.

And there, they found the Walls of Martdor,
And within these walls were beasts
Such as Clorks, and Hobblins, and Mexerlings,
All in the way of their feasts!

And wait ten minutes, they did,
At the temple of Miles of Cyradis,
Until the Wings were forged,
And they fled the Walls of Martdor without being missed.

Returning to the Shire on the Lake,
Where they were greeted by Jessica, daughter of Bessica, and Pequod the Stinky,
They enjoyed the Wings of Power,
And then went to bed, snored and winky.

Nocturnal Wife

I don't mind having a nocturnal wife,
Living out her nocturnal life,
Spending her nights awake, and her days
She tends to spend in a daze.

But I'll still love her, even if
Her pupils dilate, and the sun she doesn't miss,
And her skin takes on a silver pallor,
And has daydreams that make her holler.

And even if this becomes my new life,
I'll gladly spend it with my nocturnal wife.

Snow White

There was a time when the seven dwarfs
Decided that they were
Not going to be with Snow White
And so they went afar.

And the elder dwarf, she led the rest
Down a path obscure,
Until the dwarfs, one by one,
Fell into a deep, dark sewer.

There Snow White sat, upon the floor,
Choking on the apple they dwarfs called hers,
And it all seemed lost, and the brambles grew
Around her, surrounding her with burrs.

And the Prince, he came, with sword in hand,
Kicking down the door,
And planted a kiss on the one he missed,
The one he must adore.

The Queens Champion

There is an armor that I wear
To help protect and to help care
For you when you're not feeling safe,
Or feeling threatened by a ghastly wraith.

There is a sword that I hold
With blade of ancient steel, cold
And with it, I will vanquish foes
That bring forth a world of woes.

There is a shield that a bear
To protect you from ground, sea, and air,
And the attackers that may try to harm;
You are protected by my arm.

I will defend you when you need defense,
And will come to your rescue without pretense.
And armor or not, if you feel other than snug,
You can ask of me, I'll give you a hug.

The Pests' Demise

I declare, as I stand upon this box of soap
That though the battle may seem lost, there still is hope.
I make this declaration, now and today:
If you are not welcome here, then you will go away.

We do not need your kind crawling through our walls,
Or lingering outside our doors, or loitering in our halls.
You may return whence you came,
Otherwise, the exterminator will find ample game.

And as you face the poisons that will destroy,
You must understand: your extermination is our joy.
We do not need any more pests
In our home making any more nests.

So, until you decide to start paying rent,
I have to call in your tab, everything I have lent.
Oh? No money? You cannot pay?
Well, that won't really matter now, after today.

Reasons and Places

Just as years are made up of seasons,
All our choices are made up of reasons.
And just like an area is defined as a space,
A reasonable conclusion leads to a place.

Be Yourself

Remember: always be yourself,
And never forget what you have on the shelf.
Your talents and attitudes are what make you what you are,
And if you use them to their fullest, well, then you'll most likely go far.

If the world seems heavy, or people seem apathetic,
Know that what you do is completely copacetic.
Nobody can tell you what you HAVE to do,
Except, of course, that is, you.

So, be yourself, if you don't mind.
And let your kindness be the shining kind.
Don't worry about naysayers, of course.
'Cause we all know what says nay: the horse.

Hay, oh, hey, you've no time for detractors,
Or eponymous equestrian vile malefactors.
You, instead, have plenty of time to be
The you you are when you say "I am me."

The Omniplex

Welcome to the Omniplex.
We've got everything you could watch.
And it's not as expensive
As the theater (and better, by a notch).

Our selection may seem limited,
But it's really quite extensive.
A bit eclective, and,
Somewhat light, somewhat pensive.

It's never the same, here, you see,
As our selection varies.
And you may be surprised at
The movies the Omniplex carries.

And there's never a mess!
The Omniplex caters to a very limited clientelle.
Only two people, really,
And they attend the 'plex quite well.

Walk About

Walking around
The town
With you
Never an ache from my shoe,
As I have better things
On my mind (it sings).

I'd gladly walk
Another mile and talk
Until my face is blue,
And you
Look at me, and say
"What a wonderful day."

Work and Duty

The work is toilsome and hard,
And makes you wish for solace.
I want you to have peace,
And joy, and rest, no less.

I want you to accomplish
Everything you have to do,
And when you run out of colors,
I'll get you more red, yellow, and blue.

But I also want to be with you,
'Cause that's what you do to me.
I understand that you're occupied
With work. At times, really busy.

But I know that you and I both want
To just shirk our duties and
Be together for an afternoon,
In a park, hand-in-hand.

A Challenge

The invasion encroaches upon our home.
But I'll have none of it.
We'll meet them at the doors, in the holes, under sinks,
And make things the right fit.

There isn't much room in this here place
For us and for them,
So we should send them all packing, and give them poison
To take back home to stem

A total pesticide, attacking the base of the nest,
And they won't last a day
Longer than it takes to get an exterminator
Through the office, or for pay.

After the fog has lifted, and the dust has fell,
We'll survey the battle zone,
And declare with fists in the air:
They can take away the sewers, but never our home!

Ouch, My Comp!

I'm very sorry if you're bored.
I guess some computer components...
Don't last seven years, sometimes.
I'll fix it ASAP.

A Perfect Number

There is a hidden gem that comes
With a three day weekend, and it sums
To be that since there are seven days,
Seven minus three comes out in only one ways.

As any mathematician will tell:
Seven minus three can be quite well.
In fact, it is a perfect square,
Which a carpenter could use for a perfect chair.

And not only that, but it's root is prime!
Which makes it odd most of the time.
Only this prime is special, as it's even
And balanced like a table during the feast of Stephen.

Though, some mathematicians might want to play:
"It is five plus e to the i pi," (or Euler's identity).
But that's simply four, and they're being a jerk
To tell you that you've got one less day of work.

Illness

When your not feeling up to snuff,
I'll run out and get your healing stuff.
It doesn't matter if it's half past three,
For I'll do whatever (you'd do the same for me).

And though my head may feel quite weary,
I'll never feel towards you quite leery,
As if you're sick, you'll be quite honest
And to disbelieve that, I'd be admonished.

So, in the car, we go down the street
To the 24-hour store, quite a feat,
And though the eyes are quite tired,
I get you what you need, as is required.

And we return home and skirt the bugs
Who run around like nocturnal thugs,
And you get your cure, and soon, to bed
Where you can rest your body and rest your head.

Naps

You work so hard, I barely see
The wife that fate has given me.
You stay up all night, And in the day,
You take a nap. What more to say?

Though I enjoy reading my books,
I love more the time we give each other looks.
And though I don't mind watching over your sleep,
I miss the time together we keep.

I know why you work so hard,
For accomplished work is its own reward.
I just wish that once in a while,
The time would stop so we could smile.

And we could dance, or sing, or talk,
Or take a moonlight, briny, beachy walk.
Or do something else, but, oh, it seems,
That the thing we do best is share our dreams.

New Toy! Oh Joy!

I find myself quite elated,
Though it comes a bit belated.
It's my birthday gift from her,
And it's exactly what I was after.

Now, when I'm on the go,
I can still say "Hello."
And can still keep in touch
Through the onslaught and the rush.

I can write quite remotely,
And if I'm feeling, take a note-y.
Or maybe send her a little message:
"You fill me with much blessage."

Though the screen is small,
I know her heart is not,
For she has given me more:
That is, all she's got.

An Infinity of Love

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,
Every dark, and stormy night, and the bright, shiny days.
And there's a calm before the storm will blaze
Like a hot knife through butter, I end the clichés.

One word I've found best to describe you
Has three letters: "Y-O-U,"
As you are unique, like the sky is blue,
Or like 1=1 is always true.

Two times, I've found, at least,
I'd journey with you from west to east.
And do so again, a celebration, a feast!
Even if I become deceased.

Three days, I find, I have with you here,
And all those days, I'll keep you near,
And whisper sweet nothings in your ear
(and sweet nothings too, won't disappear).

Ellipses are used to imply duration.
Visualize them here, as a dotted formation.

Infinity-minus-one, while not actually a number
Is how much of you I can take without being an encumber.
I'd wish every night to be us, in a slumber,
And the only pickles we face come from a cucumber.

Infinity here, and finally the end
Of my counting the ways you're more than a friend.
I'm a prisoner to your love, you apprehend
My heart (and on you, I depend).

An infinity of love is a lot of information.
Though, you've given me reason for such celebration.

A Curl

A curl,
A girl,
My arms,
So charmed.

My life!
My wife,
To sleep,
Not weep.

Rest now,
And how
Your dreams
sweet seems.

Not here
A tear
Your cheek
To seek.

Night's Lullaby

When you stay up and work all night,
It makes me proud of your determination.
Though, I know at times, you want to douse the light
Before you face extermination.

The dreams will come when the time is right,
And not a moment sooner.
If you're tired, don't put up a fight,
'Cause soon, you'll be a gooner.

I know it's rough. I know it's hard.
I know that everything seems to be wrong.
But listen to these very words:
You sing your own life's song.

And as your lullaby lulls you to sleep,
You find it's often said
That you just wish yourself to keep
Just a few more minutes in bed.

Patterns

There are times when things seem boring,
And times when your finger handles no ring.
There are times when things seem fine,
And you'll find my hand has the ring that's mine.

A pattern emerges with each day, you toil,
And take your many paces upon terrestrial soil.
Though you may loathe it, hair and hide,
You'll find one day you'll hit that stride.

And once you do, things will be simple,
And you'll actually provide a smile for a dimple.
Things aren't always as bad as they seem;
Just give patience, and for your time's worth deem.

You'll find that though it may not feel cool,
You're getting better each day you spend in school.
And in a bit, your education will be complete,
And at that time, you will feel replete.