FRIENDSHIP

[a Tasteless Greeting Card from PaulMark] [I would hope it goes without saying that these sonnets are jokes which parody sappy Hallmark and Blue Mountain cards…]

What earns a friend the lofty rank of “dear”?
A friend insists we always ask for more.
…She’ll make us drink another round of beer
Although we’d rather stop at twenty-four.
A friend is like a loving sis or bro
[Or other relative you think is nice]
…Who’s always there to say, “I told you so!
If only you had taken my advice.”
A friend’s our confidant and closest bud
…Until the day our bosom buddy meets
A gorgeous mare or handsome, single stud
To share the space between the bed and sheets.
The sort of friend a person calls “the best”
Displays these traits more fully than the rest.

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JUST BECAUSE…

From a Parent to a Child [Another “Honest Greeting Card” by Paul “Whitberg” Burgess]

“Believe my son, and it will be achieved,”
I said because I wasn’t yet aware
That Sloth incarnate’s what I had conceived
And later reared with love and tender care.
To state the matter in a plainer way:
I didn’t think you’d be a lazy slouch
Who’d pass the whole of ev’ry precious day
Devouring snacks and wearing out my couch.
The time you spend on acting like a fool
Won’t bring you any closer to your dreams.
You’ll never leave the unemployment pool
Until you stop exhausting sofas’ seams.
I’d love to say, “I knew you’d make me proud,”
But lying is a sin that’s not allowed.

Happy 50th Anniversary!

[Another “Tasteless Greeting Card” by Paul “Whitberg” Burgess]

The portrait gath’ring dust inside a bin—
The one for which two newlyweds once sat—
Reveals you’ve changed in only “this” and “that”
…by which I mean, he’s grown a double chin,
And hair, along with wits, are getting thin
Beneath his perspiration-dripping hat.
[…He’s not the only one who’s gotten fat
Or turned into a bag of hanging skin.]

Although you both are lacking proper teeth,
From passion’s fruits you still can take a bite.
It won’t be long before you go beneath,
So, take advantage of this special night,
And strive to win for Love a laurel wreath
By loving ‘til you perish from delight.

Instructions for Attending a Distant Relative’s Funeral

Another “Tasteless Greeting Card” from Paul “Whitberg” Burgess…[I would like to add that I do not necessarily endorse any of the views found in my satirical and humorous work. In fact, the following poem makes me uncomfortable. P.S. The poem IS NOT autobiographical;)]

Although you only met her once or twice,
[Perhaps she held you when you were a kid]
Just smile and say, “She was extremely nice,”
As though you knew her better than you did.
For proper form and reputation’s sake,
You must attempt to cry a flood of tears.
Although it makes one feel a little fake,
It helps avoid the scorn of kin and peers.
I might suggest some well-inserted moans
[But not enough to overdo the role,
Disturb the lady’s cold and lifeless bones,
Or irk her recently departed soul].
On finishing your bouts of tearful grieving,
…Well, I’ll assume you’ll need no help with leaving.

“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.”

 

With Deepest Regrets?

a mock (intentionally trite) greeting card by Paul “Whitberg” Burgess

Dual-Purpose Hallmark Card:
[Italian Sonnet]
“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.”

 

*This poem was an excuse to attempt an Italian sonnet…