“Tasteless Greeting Cards”

3 dark and tasteless parodies of Hallmark, Blue Mountain, and other sentimental greeting card publishers. [Disclaimer: I am well aware that these are among the vilest poems ever written…]

Happy Birthday! (For a Toddler)

Congratulations on surviving life!
Your parents must be feeling very proud
To know you’ve had no mishap with a knife
Or shocking jolt of lightning from a cloud.
Your early years suggest you’ve got the smarts
Enough to not attempt to leap from cribs,
Ingest inedible and toxic parts,
Or make a noose composed of baby bibs.
Nor have you turned the toilet to a pool,*
Divided wires by giving them a bite,
Disjointed your torso with a power tool,
Or eaten whole a deadly parasite.
Again, your parents must be filled with pride
To know their child has not of dumbness died.

Alternate line: Nor have you choked to death on your own drool. [Even I thought the line went too far…]

[Related to my “Suicidal Baby Theory”: https://paulwhitberg.wordpress.com/2014/05/16/profound-insights-from-dr-burgesss-treasury-of-wisdom-installment-1/ ]

Happy Father’s Day (For a Father of a Teenage Girl)

Your precious daughter’s not a little girl
(That is, she’s not a virgin anymore).
She’s nightly causing teenaged toes to curl
And teaching beds to dance across the floor.
You, Dad, deserve a round of hearty praise
For making sure your daughter didn’t die
Before she’d reached that adolescent phase
When people give the art of love a try.
How swiftly pass the fleeting days and times!
One moment she’s a child at Mother’s breasts,
Then, suddenly, she’s searching for some dimes
To buy a box of “Are You Pregnant?” Tests.
The girl you used to rock upon your knee
Is making boys as happy as can be.

With Deepest Regrets? [For Divorcees]

“I know it seems your life’s been badly marred.
[It’s rumored by a close and friendly source
That soon you’ll file the papers for divorce.]
If leaving now appears too sad and hard,
Just know you’ll later heal if now you’re scarred.
For Time’s the Planet’s greatest healing force
And cures the folks who let it take its course.”
[In case I’m wrong, I’ve sent a second card…]
“If leaving now appears a happy choice,
And joy’s the only cause of falling tears,
Then, let’s invite some friends, and we’ll rejoice
(With party songs and rivers made of beers)
While fin’lly giving free, exalted voice
To sore resentment built up over years.”

 

Advertisement

“Translating Babies” and “Other Family Matters” by Paul Burgess

“Translating Babies”

A Pessimistic Translator:

When babies are born they will cry
A wail that I’d translate as “Why?”
“Oh, why am I here?
And where is a spear
To help me ensure that I die?”

An Optimistic Translator:

When babies are born they will smile
A grin that I’d translated as, “While…
“[While] my parents both toil,
I’m anointed with oil
And relaxing in comfort and style.”

“Ready for Children?”

Ready for a child?

If you think you’re prepared for a child,
Your mind has perhaps been beguiled.
In details exact,
Recall how you’d act
When driving your parents quite wild.

Ready for a kid?

You think you’re prepared for a kid,
But under your memory’s lid
Are tantrums you threw
As a terrible two
And the adolescent evil you did.

“A Husband Avoids Chores”

My reply when a man once did ask
To imbibe a few drops from my flask
Was, “There’s nothing to drink,
But the wife will now think
I’m too drunk to perform any task.

A special, thematic edition of *5 Limericks a Day [To Keep the Dr. Away]*

“Going Viral” a short story by Paul Burgess

My first shot at writing prose fiction! [In response to prompts found here:  http://boundariesandedges.wordpress.com/2014/05/26/try-this-the-alphabet-exercise/

http://mbarkersimpson.wordpress.com/2014/05/26/try-this-the-alphabet-exercise/

“Going Viral” A Short Story by Paul Burgess
After a few months, he would laugh nervously about that day’s events.
But, when people mentioned the incident, he continued to feel a mixture of shame and anger.
“Could they stop bringing it up?”
“Did they have to videotape it?”
Events like this used to entertain him when he saw them on the internet.
Facebook and YouTube, however, had now become his enemies.

Going back to school terrified him.
How would he endure the merciless teasing of classmates who’d had an entire summer to hone their jokes about him?
If only his family would not have posted the video all over the internet…
Just thinking about his parents made him alternate between gritting his teeth and clutching his stomach.
“Killing them might be justifiable,” said a half-serious voice no one else heard.
“Let go of that thought,” a wiser voice advised.

Monkeys continued to haunt his dreams.
No night seemed to pass without those hairy hands caressing his cheeks.
Orangutans watched with gazes expressing amused approval.
“Primates, why do you torment me?”
Quinton often woke to find himself panting while repeating that phrase.

“Rape” would be too strong a word to describe what he’d endured…
To get a good picture, Quinton held his phone with one hand that he pushed between the cage’s bars.
Using his phone’s high-resolution camera, he captured dozens of excellent photos.
“Vern, are you filming this?” his mom asked his dad.
What happened next, when Quinton tried to pull his arm back through the bars, gave him the shock of his young life.
Xavier, the monkey, grabbed his arm, pulled him close, stared deeply into his eyes, and then—before releasing him—kissed his lips for what seemed like ages.
“YouTube will love this!” exclaimed his dad.
“Zoo Trip, featuring Quinton Craig” went viral.

“Poem” an Epigram on an Anagram [by Paul Burgess]

A “poem” might become a mixed up “mope,”

Composed by some absurdly gloomy dope.