I’ve always wished to have super powers,

To fly around and beat up crooks.

Although I already have one ability-

I’m invisible when no one looks.



Puffknuckle is a powerful word,

Set out to describe its weak holder.

It describes a man who often in squabbles,

Laden with fights on his shoulders.


A man who sets out to fight for no good,

And often without reason at all.

Puffknuckles are an indecent sort-

So short, and acting so tall.

The Boy Who Had No Ears

There once was boy who did not have ears,

Which made hearing an impossible task.

He grew up in a world that sat silently still,

A face in the crowd with a mask.


This boy never listened, for he found he could not,

But he refused to try to be taught.

And if you tried to teach him a lesson, well,

First he would have to be caught.


Then a man came along, a sizeable fellow,

And he happened to be lacking a tongue.

But what he missed there he made up for in cheek,

And it seems as though those two had fun.


The man in question has no college degree,

But he understands how the boy feels.

And that, my friends, is how one truly teaches,

Not with lessons, but with sharing one’s meals.

Well, Well.

Well, Well.

Well, well.  I don’t know what to say.

I gave you all my hope, but then you took it all away.

You granted me the wish and will to never use you again,

The loss of my quarter is supremely hard to mend.


Well, well.  Why are you still here?

Do you wish to see more of my pain?  More of my tears?

You pail in comparison to the friendliness of others..

..But I suppose I have more change here..  Well, have another.


Well, well.  I’m supremely mad this time,

I dropped in a quarter first, but now you’ve cost me a dime,

And my wish remains unanswered.  I really need to know

If this wishing well’s for real, or is it really just for show?

Optional (Title)

The world is upside-down,

Reading right to left, while

Commoners sport crowns

On top of their heads.


While the mute men sing,

And while the cats chase dogs,

I sit still, wondering

How to make dough from this bread.


I walk onto the streets and as I keep on moving,

There’re crowds thanking congress for the job they are doing,

And as far as I can see,

Everyone seems happy,

In this world spun upside-down.


The world is inside-out,

Raccoons dig through recycle bins

And the old men shout

For kids to jump on their lawns.


And while everything’s grand,

There’s just one thing I don’t get.

Maybe you understand, but

Where has our old world gone?


For I’m running down the streets now being chased by the school-bus,

The taverns  fill up quickly with some nuns that can out-cuss

Every sailor on the seas,

So now I’m begging, please

Give us back our normal world.


Sure it’s filled with hate, violence, racism, and scum,

And chocked full to the brim with spirits from whiskey to rum,

And it’s bursting at the seams,

But at least those of us that dream

Can patch up our broken world.



*Edit:  Work in progress.  Feel free to comment how to make this better.

The Man Who Was Too Fond of Bugs

Butterflies in the stomach are nothing to joke about.

The once was a man who was too fond of bugs,

And spent his time finding them all,

But as he awoke to a loud crashing sound,

He found his cage had taken a fall.


Crawlies spilled all over the place,

Creepies squirmed onto his toes,

And as he opened his mouth to let out a shout,

The butterflies knew where to go.


Down the wind pipe and into the tummy,

The man jittered as the last one went down,

And as he went to the world and tried to tell his tale,

He could not make a single sound.


Embarrassed, he sat down and thought it all out,

And at last he knew what to do!

He trained them to *click* and make their unique sounds,

And they taught him that he could buzz too.