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.

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“Evil Stepmothers and Stepfathers”

3 stereotype-perpetuating poems by Paul Burgess [2 limerick and a “Brats” quatrain]

“An Evil Stepmother [or Stepfather’s] Threat”
“The next time you are sent to your room,
I’ll ensure that you meet with your doom.
You’ll be there alone
‘til skin falls from bone
And you’re fit to be placed in a tomb.”

“An Evil Stepmother or Stepfather’s Warning”
“If you forget to wash your own plate,
I’ll smash it on top of your pate.
If your plate’s still not clean,
I will batter your bean
With the plate off of which you just ate.”

“A Sea of Yellow Sorrows”
Incontinent was little Brett.
His mother said, when quite upset,
“To your bed, I’ll tie you down.
Keep on wetting, and you’ll drown.”

“Wicked Willie–the Demon Child” pt. I

“Kids at Play”
Will showed his siblings Father’s gun.
“Oh, Russian Roulette sounds like fun!”
Exclaimed his sister, Mary Lynn.
Will said, “You first. I hope you win.”

“A Gift for Teacher”
An apple Will gave Missus Cox
While smiling like a hungry fox.
As Teacher swallowed her first bite,
Will quipped, “I hope you’ve seen Snow White!”

“A Devil at Confession”
“Confess now Willie how you’ve sinned,”
The priest implored, but Willie grinned
And with these words then refused,
“Tell me, how many boys you’ve abused.”

“Willie’s Web”
Willie once thought it’d be a hoot
To hide a spider in Dad’s boot.
Dad’s body’s been of little use
Since meeting Willie’s brown recluse.

Who?”
For Will it was a hoot and howl
To murder sis then, like an owl,
Respond by saying only, “Who?”
When asked by Mom, “Where’s Mary Lou?”

5 “Little Willie” poems by Paul Burgess. For background info on the Little Willie form–yes, it’s a form–please see the following post: https://paulwhitberg.wordpress.com/2014/05/17/little-willie-and-brats-poems/

 

“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]*

“Little Bo Peep” and “The Wife of Bath”–2 Clerihews by Paul Burgess

“Little Bo Peep”
Neglectful Little Miss Bo Peep
So poorly tends her flock of sheep
That Earth and Heaven now forbid
Her being mother to a kid.

“The Wife of Bath”
Chaucer’s loving Wife of Bath
Began to learn the art of math
To help her better keep the count
Of men who she’d been known to mount.

Wholesome Verse for the Little Children [“Little Willie” and “Brats,” Installment 3] By Paul Burgess

Although I am no fan of flatulence jokes, I know that many people are. Consider the following a good faith effort to give the people what they want;) 

“Fire in the Hole”

Will, wanting Mother’s eye to catch,
Decided that he’d light a match
And set on fire escaping gas.
Prosthetic now is Willie’s ass.

5 Limericks a Day (To Keep the Dr. Away)–By Paul O’Burgess [Day 7]

At Home in Nature

There was once a person so broke
That he had to reside in an oak.
He wanted some girls
But settled for squirrels
Who’d not mind a man being so broke.

French Style

There was once an old woman from France
Who delighted in wearing no pants.
I have never yet guessed
Why she covered the rest…
…that eccentric old woman from France.

A Pious Young Boy

I knew once a boy so bizarre
That his body he’d feather and tar.
Himself he did scorn
For having been born
Once discovered he what sinners we are.

A Loan Never Repaid

A man asked me to lend him an ear.
I said, “Yes,” and then bought him a beer.
But he’d give it not back,
So an ear I now lack,
And I find it much harder to hear.

An Inspiring Political Speech

A man to be gov’ner aspired
Who delivered these words that inspired:
“If for me you don’t vote,
I’ll cut your mom’s throat.”
So, I gave him the vote he desired.

5 Limericks a Day (To Keep the Dr. Away)–By Paul O’Burgess [Day 5]

“A Cruel Rejection”
I met a young girl at a dance
Who asked, “Can I get in your pants?”
But I knew they’d not fit
And she’d cause them to split,
So I said, “Oh, my dear, not a chance!”

“Unconventional Swimming Facilities”
I met once a kooky old fool
Who believed his toilet a pool.
If you ever meet him,
And he asks you to swim,
I’d advise you escape that old fool.

“Miguel the Masochist”
A man who’s residing in Spain,
Is becoming addicted to pain.
He has chains and some whips,
And he likes for his hips
To be thoroughly thrashed with a cane.

“An Innocent Limerick about Birdwatching [I had no part in naming birds!]”
In the place where he presently sits,
A boy sees him plenty of tits.
Near his seat on those rocks,
Are both boobies and cocks
And more birds that approach where he sits.

“A Prolific Man”
There once was an old man from Peru
Who had many more kids than he knew.
Some say he had four
But ‘twas likely a score…
…that prolific old man from Peru!

Wholesome Verse for the Little Children [“Little Willie” and “Brats,” Installment 2] By Paul Burgess

3 Little Willies and a Brat

1. So empty was wee Willie’s head,
He’d do whatever others said.
Mom screamed, “In traffic go and play,”
And Willie did it right away.

2. In a tire decided Will
To go rolling down a hill.
The story’s ending can’t be told
‘cuz no one knows to where he’s rolled.

3. “Confess now Willie how you’ve sinned,”
The priest implored, but Willie grinned
And with these words then refused,
“Tell me, how many boys you’ve abused.”

4. From Father’s flask beneath the sink,
Rebellious Ralphie snuck a drink
Of what he’d thought was gin or wine
But found to be some turpentine.

Profound Insights from Dr. Burgess’s Treasury of Wisdom [Installment 1]

An excerpt from Dr. Burgess’s upcoming book on developmental psychology

…Normal humans pass through several cycles before reaching maturity. They begin as helpless, pathetic creatures incapable of doing much more than crying and producing foul substances. After a few months, they reach the stage at which they become suicidal. During this stage, unsupervised young humans will attempt to stick their fingers in electrical sockets, crawl into the middle of busy intersections, and swallow inedible objects. The parents of these young humans function essentially as “suicide watches.” Once capable of walking and talking, the young humans—now called “toddlers”—focus their destructive energies not on themselves but rather on the possessions and sanity of their parents…