He scorches he glows

Summer Sun
By Robert Louis Stevenson

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.


Geraghty’s got guilty pleasure

Trying to beat the heat of summer
Feeling a bit sick; what a bummer
Hiding away from our yellow star
Freeing up space on our DVR
We watched everything from Family Tree
To Doctor Who, Veep and AGT
That might have been too much to disclose
Please don’t judge us for our silly shows


Get along little druggie

We drugged up our doggie
She’s still a bit groggy
But better than barking
At neighbors just parking
So, if we hear loud pops
We give her knockout drops


Hebetude haiku

The days are longer
Rockets explode in the sky
We sedate our dog


Hoping for an invite

SCOTUS declares DOMA is bad
Prop 8 too, making nut jobs mad
So the ladies and the fellas
Tie the knot and make them jealous
Because crazies always look drab
And the fellas always look fab


SCOTUS screwed us

The Supreme Court is wrong about the South
From ID laws to Paula Dean’s big mouth
To fried chicken jokes and country club gates
Racism still exists in rebel states


Galway not Limerick

There once was a lady from Galway
Who met a young sailor from Norway
He asked for a dance
Unbuckled his pants
She saw it and said no fucking way


We were trippin’

Journey’s End
By J. R. R. Tolkien

In western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe ’tis cloudless night,
And swaying branches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.

Though here at journey’s end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.


It was a mighty dong

We walked block after block after block
To see the Astronomical Clock
Bing bong dong bing bong dong bing bong dong
Sounded the Astronomical Gong


I <3 my little klutz

Jean and I were on a bog
Then we flew over to Prague
Took a train to Germany
The birthplace of Jean’s Granny
Back to Prague by way of train
Poor Jean’s ankle got a sprain
Hard to walk with such a bruise
So we took a dinner cruise
A gorgeous night with my mate
Caused by a strange twist of fate


Bohemian back sweaty

Humid and hot
We like it not
Sweat on the train
With chance of rain
AC Broken
Dank smell of men
4 hour trip
With constant drip


Heiß haiku

It felt like summer
Not springtime for Geraghty
In Burglengenfeld


Traiňs are äwesome

Leaving Prague by way of train
River’s swollen from the rain
Meadows full of red poppies
Hard to see through tall green trees
Fields of hay are cut and rolled
Trolley brings us something cold
Plzeň has a huge train yard
Crossing border with no guard
Now we leave Bohemia
And enter Bavaria
Bug flies in through the window
Jean laughs at how wild I go
I thrash about and kick it
Fräulein punches our ticket
It’s just about half past five
When Regensburg, we arrive


We had a nice stay-o

There once was a woman from Mayo
She would drink every night and day-o
When she hit the town
She’d drink the boys down
And end with a roll in the hay-o


Happy Father’s Day too

Oh, Call it by some better name
By Thomas Moore

Oh, call it by some better name,
For Friendship sounds too cold,
While Love is now a worldly flame,
Whose shrine must be of gold:
And Passion, like the sun at noon,
That burns o’er all he sees,
Awhile as warm will set as soon–
Then call it none of these.

Imagine something purer far,
More free from stain of clay
Than Friendship, Love, or Passion are,
Yet human, still as they:
And if thy lip, for love like this,
No mortal word can frame,
Go, ask of angels what it is,
And call it by that name!


Congrats L&L!

I have a cousin named Laurence May
He’s getting married near Galway
Leanne is his bride
She won’t be denied
A wedding night as fun as the day


We’re in Ireland!

There once was a man from Ballinrobe
Who traveled half way around the globe
To find a hooker
Who could play snooker
While crudely caressing his earlobe


And don’t call me Shirley

We’re leaving on a jet plane
Going to Europe again
Questions floating through my head
Why don’t airplanes have a bed?
Who likes to eat airplane grub?
Should we join the mile high club?
What is the inflight movie?
Either way, it’s all groovy


Vacation’s all I ever wanted

Work is done, I’m on vacation
Off to cousin’s celebration
An Irish Wedding in Galway
Then Czech Republic for short stay
We’ll take a train to Germany
Bavaria is where we’ll be
Back to Prague for a day or three
A long ass flight ends our journey


Almost time for Europe

In the Game of Spanish TV
You air, or you get preempted
I will only assign copy
If my temper is not tempted


Spring can’t come soon enough

Drink your wine and drown in your beer
Game of Thrones is done for the year
Hard to top what happened last week
But Ramsay tries by taunting “Reek”
Tywin and son have a good talk
Balon Greyjoy gets a used cock
Yara sails for the Narrow Sea
Jaime reunites with Cersei
Lord Varys does not impress Shae
Davos helps Gendry get away
Stannis may fight beyond the wall
Dragon Girl is mother to all
Most think that Sansa is last Stark
Arya’s bite is worse than Hound’s bark
Ygritte with her bow and arrow
Points out “You know nothing Jon Snow”
Sam and Gilly find secret door
Hodor Hodor Hodor Hodor


Jean’s my golden ticket

I’ve Got a Golden Ticket
By Roald Dahl

I never thought my life could be
Anything but catastrophe
But suddenly I begin to see
A bit of good luck for me

‘Cause I’ve got a golden ticket
I’ve got a golden twinkle in my eye

I never had a chance to shine
Never a happy song to sing
But suddenly half the world is mine
What an amazing thing

‘Cause I’ve got a golden ticket
It’s ours, Charlie
I’ve got a golden sun up in the sky

I never thought I’d see the day
When I would face the world and say
Good morning, look at the sun
I never thought that I would be
Slap in the lap of luxury’
Cause I’d have said it couldn’t be done
But it can be done

I never dreamed that I would climb
Over the moon in ecstasy
But nevertheless, it’s there that I’m
Shortly about to be

‘Cause I’ve got a golden ticket
I’ve got a golden chance to make my way
And with a golden ticket, it’s a golden day

Good morning, look at the sun’
Cause I’d have said it couldn’t be done
But it can be done

I never dreamed that I would climb
Over the moon in ecstasy
But nevertheless, it’s there that I’m
Shortly about to be

‘Cause I’ve got a golden ticket’
Cause I’ve got a golden ticket
I’ve got a golden chance to make my way
And with a golden ticket, it’s a golden day


World’s biggest lapdog

Raven really hates fireworks
She’s so scared she loses her mind
The people shooting them are jerks
I want to go kick their behind


It’s all mental masturbation

I have a daily obligation
A day after day irriration
To rhyme and provide illustration
Somedays I have no motivation
While some think about graduation
I ponder my 10-day vacation
But imperfect communication
Contributes to mounting frustration
Clearly I need some fermentation
To bring this mood to a cessation


Take-off zebra baby

Today did not have a hassle
I saw zebras at a castle
Jean delighted my afternoon
So here is a silly cartoon


Happy birthday Sweetie Pea

Happy birthday to the amazing Jean
The sexiest woman I’ve ever seen
Not only pretty, she’s funny and smart
I knew she was a keeper from the start
Our weekends together should never end
I couldn’t ask for a better best friend


Flay the Freys!

There once was a man named Walder Frey
Who massacred on a wedding day
He’s a wretched crank
Who needs a good shank
And his severed head put on display


Nothin’ fair in this world

Hey little Stark boy what do you know?
Hey little Stark boy who is that ho?
Hey little Stark boy in the frying pan
Hey little Stark boy where’s your bannerman?
Hey little Stark boy crossbow

It’s a bad day to break a vow
It’s a bad day for a red wedding
It’s a bad day to break a vow


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Vogon Poetry
By Douglas Adams

Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturitions are to me,
As plurdled gabbleblotchits,
On a lurgid bee,
That mordiously hath bitled out,
Its earted jurtles,
Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter. [drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,
And living glupules frart and slipulate,
Like jowling meated liverslime,
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,
And hooptiously drangle me,
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,
See if I don’t.


Deck building FTW

There once was a game called Dominion
It’s pretty good in my opinion
You play and buy cards
Like moats or courtyards
And win with the help of a minion

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