A Sonnet to Silverstein II
More off-beat poetry by Jay Horne that will make you think you caught a buzz.
Killbuzz
I’ll kiss you on your forehead, nose,
knees, and elbows too
I’ll kiss you on your cheek,and back,
then along your neck
Woo Hoo!
But when I try and kiss you
on your ear, please tell me why…
You chase me with a vengeful shoo
and remark that I should die.
Shipments and Cargo | Just take another Dose
Jiminy Cricket lost his ball in a thicket
when he was doing so well
He was no lamer
than a Pokemon trainer
who’s turtle was beat by a snail
When it was raining cats and dogs
Jill went to get her pail
But the poodles had all turned to ice
and the rain had turned into hail
They took shelter with a baby-sitter
serving cough syrup and sweets
Then wondered why’s the running done by noses
and all the smelling done by feets!
Why do cars drop shipments
and ships drop cars that go?
Supercalifragilisticexpeala Do!
In GLove
Ever wonder why cartoon characters never wear rubber gloves?
I bet there are some cartoons out there where the characters put on gloves but,
I don’t think I would ever want to see them.
The things people do in rubber gloves…
…and putting rubber gloves on someone like Homer Simpson would just be downright insinuating!
By the way? Do you know what the man with five penises told his tailor?
Be sure the pants fit like a glove!
I once stabbed myself with a pencil
and it hardly bled.
Ten years later, I still see the spot;
a grey dot on my head…
Guess it will always be there…
…for I’d broken off the lead.
Nowadays my head is smart.
I learned some good things from the mark:
Keep my pencil sharp!
The more dangerous an object,
the more respect it will impart.
Lead is at the farthest end of radioactive decay
so no matter how long I stare it’ll never go away…
Another lesson I learned from this event;
From Google, modern day:
Pencils contain no real lead
just graphite and some clay
So what have I been pouring over
all these thirty years?
A pimple, speck, a blackhead, what?!
It’ll never be quite clear.
Nah. Not That Gnat. Naht.
Un Uh!
I don’t play that Gnat
I won’t let that shit fly
Come back here for a second Gnat
light somewhere right nearby
Are you telling others I might stink?
Perhaps, I left a little food?
Don’t expose my mess
Dear Gnat,
Then they’ll know I’m rude!
My cubicle is neat.
I am not a sloppy pig!
I sit and type and stare at screens
I’m told to for this gig —
Fly to another trashcan or screen
pretend you are a moth —
Just leave me be, alone here please,
only an hour til I’m off!
Go! Before they turn and see,
for sure I will be caught.
CLAP!
What are you all looking at?
NEON LIGHTS
Not choosing or bruising
Not refusing the injury
Just using what gifts he gives me to spread about his cheer
There is always work to be done
Atten Hut!
Listen Here!
Some people will look you right in the face
and say they understand how you feel…
Those people are real
Those people have imagined themselves in the darkest places on the Globe…
They’ve read under their blankets
They cried when no one’s known…
They’ve scoured the internet,
burned their eyes,
touched dead bodies,
softened cries —
Survived a thousand battlefields…
When that person looks at you and tells you that they love and feel you —
They are REAL!
But I can’t reach outside these pages and pull you in…
I sit on a shelf not a mile from your HELL
but can’t grow a foot fast enough to run be your friend…
I’m there, waiting… reaching…
Life’s a battlefield.
Read your way to me.
I’m coming.
Cosmic Candy
A speck became a marble,
became a ball, became a globe.
A globe became a planet
the moon a lunar probe.
Wound around a sun
in outer space got tangled up.
Mixed into Milky way and
Stars and stripes are frozen
served soft on top of cones.
Wieners getting relished,
sodas, chips, and Chicharrones.
Grab your kids some cosmic candy,
while you’re talking into space.
Sound in-vis-ib-i-ly carried through some stardust by your face.
You call it rotary, dial-up, touch-tone, or mobile phone,
then you fuel up your conveyance with liquid ancient bones.
G.R.Z.E.S.I.K…
This is how I start my day…
In fact,
It is how I start my year.
My dear,
If this job were to
go away
These names of patients
I watch all day
are kept in secret
and in code —
I never write about my work
cuz it’s a major No!
But on this day
I walk away
with paper and my pen
And if the good Lord
sees it so
I will begin again…
I’ll pull my hair in Hindi
until I’m void of ronth
Bet you a quarter and a penny
there’s no other word that rhymes with MONTH!
Root For Me Yo
When I get that six figure book deal
You’ll know
So root for me yo
I’m not one to hoard all my treasure
So when I’m fixin’ to glow
Keep all the fuses in measure
And pray to the gods that we grow
We go together like buckles and leather
Your notches were ladders to all that I know
So when I tell you that things’ll get better
All I’m askin’s to root for me yo
I’ve not been doing all this for the pleasure
It’s a measure we needed to take
If we’re all gonna get back together
Please support all that I create
When I get that eight figure book deal
You’ll know
So root for me yo
Dirty Jokes
What’s the difference between someone’s daughter and someone’s date?
You wipe the daughter’s ass.
What’s the difference between a Doctor and a dildo?
One’s acting like he’s looking for something.
Customer Service Servants
They enter through the doors each day and ask for crazy things.
More ink for a twenty-five-cent pen
a refund on gasoline.
A jug of milk dated next year, some change, a smoke, receipt…
The key to the back restroom
and yeah, a dirty magazine.
Service is an industry
of customer complaints.
Produced by smiling faces
wasting away at minimum wage.
Service with a smile.
The customer’s always right.
How many Customer Service Servants
are you paying to be liked?
A Big Fat Hen
Couple of duck.
Three brown bear.
Four fleeing hare.
Five fat females.
Six simple simons sitting on a stump.
Seven Sicilian sailors sailing the seven seas.
Eight egotistical idiots echoing egotistical ecstasy.
Nine napping nymphs nipping and napping on naps knuckles and nicotine.
Ten. I’m not a fig-plucker or a fig-plucker’s son but I’ll pluck figs ’til the fig-plucker comes.
Before the Chicken or the Egg
I wrote a rhyme in time,
the gun went off before.
A thick slick inch of slime,
beyond a snail that had stopped short.
Flys all stuck to windshields,
before cars could all honk horns.
Water spilled from cups,
from un-turned taps where they were poured.
It was tomorrow yesterday,
butts were slapped,
then babies born.
Papaw picked,
Mawmaw shucked,
and then they planted corn.
What came before the egg a chicken said,
a rooster roared.
His laughter kept them asking,
but the answer went ignored.
If you wanna use a chicken or an egg you better know;
The rooster better cum first Baby,
or both will never grow.
Self Motivation
Right now you’re in the middle
with a flute and a fiddle.
Just play the bard.
Do your part.
Try not to fart.
Then maybe one day you’ll own a house
as big as Walmart.
I’m leavin’ it!
Ya know why? Cuz, I Believe in it!
Amen. Brother Ben, shot the rooster and killed the hen.
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Jay Horne is an author and publisher out of Bradenton, Florida. He is a husband and father of four.
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