Hickory trickery

Today I was tricked by a tree,

It set all my carrier pigeons free.

I had a box full of feathery friends,

It asked to hold it with its barky branch ends,

Lifted it high and opened the lid,

The sky started cooing; as if the sun hid.

Getting the box back I was a bit peeved,

With no pigeons, my cunning plan sieved.

The tree said I should really not worry,

I could still catch them if I hurry.

Just lick the bark and get way wiser;

I’m known to be no information-miser.

My tongue-tip grazed the bark quite quickly,

One hot second I was dazed and sickly.

The boughs of the tree heaved high and low,

It laughed and laughed berating me so:

“Fooled you twice you bag of meat,

Go back home, I got you beat!”

I went home on familiar tracks,

Thinking hard where I laid my axe.

This day contained deceit and tree-lickery;

I guess today’s theme is hickory trickery.


Planet of the apes

If we were on the planet of the apes,

The science monkeys wearing white capes,

Would want to go to moon due to its bright hue,

Banana planetoid would have its Ape Aldrin too.

If we were on the planet of the snakes,

I’d want to get off no matter what it takes,

Like the Chinese astronaut some time ago,

Do like Wan Hu and leave with a bangy explo’.

If we were on the planet of giraffes,

You could draw some serious graphs,

On how the orthopedist sectors differ,

And how the ergonomy laws over there are stiffer.

If we were on the planet of the squirrels,

You’d work hard on the cuteness referrals,

Trying to solve who of the eleven billion,

Looked most pretty and least reptilian.

Rotten teeth

I went to the dentist to check my teeth,

For three years, I’ve kept them in their sheath.

No surprise, they were completely rotten,

No wonder I’ve felt I’m like chewing with cotton.

They took out all 32 pearly whites,

And when I worried about my future bites,

I got new adamantium dentures

That would be ready for all adventures.

Gums of adamantium I’ve got now too,

How to clean them? I didn’t have a clue.

The doc told me to use dynamite,

Small doses nightly, in the mouth and bite.

Tiny detonations and their blast waves,

Will stop the formation of plaque and caves.

I was doubtful but it works quite well,

But the neighbors complain about the noise and the smell.

(Bang Bang Boom at ten P.M.,

Smell of smoke might hinder your R.E.M.)

They play piano, I eat bombs,

Sounds pretty even, I have no qualms.

Ants in the grass

When I lie on my back on the grass,

Ants use my arm as an overpass.

When I lie on my leftmost side,

The shy ones go in my ear and hide.

If I sit up to lean on a tree,

Under-back sleepers will roam free.

If I stand up and feel the warm air,

They will climb up my shin hair.

If they stay on me and I swim,

I’m an island that sinks on a whim.

If the sun shines, I’ll play with the ants,

If it doesn’t I’ll hug potted plants.

This will caterpillarize my chest,

And I’ll be all-organically well-dressed.

Sun or not, you can find some friends,

Some so small you’ll need a zoom lens.

Stopping light

I stopped a photon to ask where it’s going,

It answered me sounding positively glowing.

“I came from the sun where I was made,

On the way to earth, eight minutes, I played.

In the atmosphere I slowed down a bit,

Looking down I saw the desert I would hit.

Closer and closer to a small black panel,

Maintained by people dressed in flannel,

When I met it, I gave it some heat,

Which then powered a rocky half beat.

I bounced off and was caught by you,

And now I’m waiting what you will do.”

Nothing more, thank you dear light,

I wanted to hear your story so bright.

I’ve kept you here for one hot minute,

Time to let you go, go ahead and spin it.

“Thank you mister, nice to have a chat,

I’m heading for space, lonely as a bat.”

Today’s findings are: light can talk,

New tests tomorrow at 9 o’clock.

Ser Round

The knights parley late on the bloody war’s eve,

Tactics discussions so we may live.

“We should arrange our very best troops,

In single-file lines, not just groups,

With a right angle after every triple-knight,

Half the angles left and half of them right.

That will cut through the enemies like butter,

Start in their guts a fearful little flutter.”

Said Ser Rated, a veteran of war,

Of two hundred battles, maybe even more.

“No, we start with me in the middle,

Keeping rhythm with my fiddle,

Every other knight exactly, no more,

Than twenty paces from me, I am the core.

Like the outline of the sun we march onwards,

Leaving the enemies’ bones for the birds.”

That was Ser Round, a bloody old hand.

He lives on his green, battle-won land.

“No no no, you’re all obsolete,

With my tactic, steel won’t cut meat.

I will spread my special little smoke,

With my wheelbarrow made of oak.

When our foe smells my little trick,

He’ll love us dearly, sure and quick.

No one will die, no one will suffer,

And we get their country for a buffer.”

Said Ser O’tonin, the wisest of the bunch.

He persuaded the king, that’s my hunch.


I went for an interview on a cold day,

On the way I thought about all the things to say.

How I’m the best for this job they can find,

I had all the fancy answers in mind.

I got in and sat in the chair,

My nose all red and snow in my hair.

Things going great, like my smile,

Job in my pocket with effortless style.

Then a slow drip, drip on my hand,

My fear fire starts to become fanned.

I sneak a quick peek at the ceiling,

Trying to diminish the revulsion I’m feeling.

Up, way up, I see something brown,

Every ten seconds it’s drip-dripping down.

I don’t know quite what the thing is,

I ask the interviewer if it’s his.

He looks up, grows pale and screams,

Not what he expected to see, it seems.

Runs away, testing the Doppler effect.

I follow suit, my hand brown-specked.

Dislike, distaste and abomination,

On my mind, I flee the corporation.

I was expecting a job interview,

What I got was a gross winter-eww.