Why don’t you?

“Why don’t you ever make small talk?”

(“Why can You never be silent?

When you sleep or eat or walk

Your barrage unending, violent.”)

“Why don’t you ask more questions?”

(“Why would I when I can just Google everything?

Because all those questions are acts of aggression,

In social belligerence, you are the king.”)

“Why do you never come with when we go out?”

(“Why don’t you like reading a book?

Crap music too loud? What’s that all about?

I can also enjoy Pooh or captain Hook.

“Why don’t you ever make eye contact?

(“Why do you look at me like I’m a car for sale?

Are you interested or is it just an act?

You are the vulture and I’m a beached whale.”)

“Why can’t you be more normal?”

(“Why do you think that that’s what you are?

If I can, for a moment, be informal,

If arrogance gave out titles, you’d be a czar.”)

The tyranny of extroverts has gone too far,

They think that they’re all there is.

Being too polite has left the door ajar,

Fight back, but quietly, after you’ve read this.

Portals

If I had portals, I’d never waste time

Bringing food with a fork to my mouth.

I’d hold one in my hand like a dime,

And one between my teeth to transport it down south.

Press my hand on the taters slowly,

To keep the tater-traffic in check,

Enjoy the sensation wholly

Without straining my sprained left peck.

If I attached one under my heel,

I could pick up stuff without stooping.

As an old man I wouldn’t have to kneel.

I could also have a butt for long distance pooping.

I guess you could use it for industry as well

Or transporting food to all the people in need.

But for me and my arm not moving’d be swell,

Outstandingly lazy, but swell indeed

Online stupidity

Three things that I often see in online discussions, all of which have an inherent flaw in the reasoning and thus aggravate my logic-gland. To be fair, this gland becomes very aggravated by pretty much anything online, not just these three things.

 

… and then she said she likes me as a friend!”

Oh you poor thing, did your life end?

You were nice to a person in hopes for sex?

And it didn’t happen, so now you’re perplexed?

Nice is the default, you sack of stupid!

Not for forcing the arrow of cupid.

But now you’re hurt and lie to yourself

“It’s her fault, I’m perfect, like a beautiful elf!”

Lying about your feelings and your intention,

Is dicky, to be fair, dicky. Pay attention!

 

… asking for it with the way she was dressed.”

The idiocy of this statement has me slightly impressed.

By the same logic, if you see someone

Wearing boxing shorts when going for a run

Means you can punch them out of the blue

And, although they can always sue,

“They had it coming, wearing what they did.

If you’re not ready to be punched, wear other pants kid.”

 

… is fake, but what I found, it just has to be real.”

Really? The other proof is cotton, yours is steel?

Just with the virtue of agreeing with your bias,

Its validity is raised higher than the Himalayas?

Maybe you should, for once in your life,

Be critical to things said during times of strife

By the people in your team as well? Eh? Maybe?

Not just nod and coo like an overgrown baby.

This might even *GASP* lead to a rational talk.

But that requires thinking, no wonder you balk.

A highly polite bee

Today I learned that bees are polite.

The epiphany came in the middle of the night.

I heard my doorbell on the way to my bed,

“That’s a bit late” is what I thought and said.

I went down and opened the door,

And all I saw was darkness and hoar.

I thought a prankster had paid me a visit.

I thought “That ain’t fun, not at all, now is it?”

Then I saw the bumbliest bee

Floating in mid-air and glancing at me

And at the doorbell and at me again.

Five and a half minutes later was when

I gathered the plot of what’d taken place

The bee had buzzed so it could enter my base.

I didn’t wonder, the nights get cold,

So this voiceless dealer had me sold.

I preferred this to just barging in,

So enter it could, welcome within.

I prepared a plate with a drop of honey,

It had a sip and it looked at me funny.

Followed me as I went back to the bed

And lay down next to me as I read

The tales of Pooh bear’s and Piglet’s fright.

It lay quiet and listened, quite polite.

Opposites and kind-ofs

What’s the opposite of a phone conversation?

Sleeping in an abandoned, roofless train station.

(A moist mouth and a cold ear.)

What is exactly the same as giving a speech?

Bungee jumping into a tectonic breach.

(Some applause after wanting to disappear.)

What’s half as good as doing the dishes?

Licking them thoroughly according to your wishes.

(Plates are wet but not exactly clean.)

What’s half as bad as lying to a friend?

Lying to a priest that’s close to the end.

(It’s still a lie, but the truth remains unseen.)

What’s a bit like an uncomfortable hug?

Accidentally stepping on a super slimy bug,

(Icky, but not warm, nor with a person.)

What’s the opposite of sleeping when sick?

25/7 practice of a roundhouse kick.

(Not fun after a while, and your condition will worsen.)

What’s a bit like this poem right here?

Henry Van Dyke’s works, or those of Shakespeare.

(Composed of words, although mine don’t endear.)