The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

De Jour of the Week (4/26/10)

April 26, 2010

My Degree from Sewanee

I got my degree
From Sewanee
You see
I’m a doctor of divinity

My sermons are bigger than life
Rife
With strife
And with a conclusion that encourages sacrifice

Like sugar on your ear buds
I’m a hot knife and my conversations’ spuds
With my words in tow you go from duds
To studs

My devotional
Is emotional
And quotable
And never dull

Yes, me and my degree
From Sewanee
Practice divinity
Of which I’m a doctor, you see

I know the Bible
And I’m more than liable
To save your soul
If my words you let fill you full

If I’m wrong
And it turns out I strung you along
Pick up your harmonica and sing your song
Because if you’re wrong when it comes to this, wrong is really wrong

What if there is a God
And wouldn’t this be odd
When people say his name in vain, God is quick to applaud
So the people we think flawed, would actually be awed

But me and my degree
From Sewanee
Will still be as divine as can be
Because there’s no malpractice suits for a doctor of divinity

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De Jour of the Week (4/21/10)

April 21, 2010

I SUPPOSE if people read this and they think of conversations they’ve had with their parents that could be understandable. But me? Noooooooo. This was inspired by conversations with my know-it-all stuffed animal, Little Foot (from Land Before Time).

I Called for Your Two Cents, but I Got Ten

I called for your two cents
You’re smart and your advice makes sense
But now we’re twenty minutes in and I can’t help but wince

I laid out my problem nice and clear
Even telling the parts that make it clear I’m no dear
And you listened without judgment, allaying my worry and fear

You asked some questions for clarification
And you “hmmm’d” and “umm’d” in consternation
But we got the problem stated clearly, much to my gratification

You voiced a bit of life’s-hard-lessons reason
And threw in some light-hearted stuff to keep it fun
Not to be rude – but let’s get to it, please, say your advice and be done

Oh. Now you’re stating the obvious
And re-stating the facts is good, but in all fairness,
I’m afraid I’ll soon be tactless, vicious and ruthless

Why did I call you to get your advice?
I already had a plan, and my plan will suffice
You’re going to go from ‘sure I’ll help’ to ‘now, that wasn’t nice’

‘I know … yeah … yeah … I know … I know’
How tightly clenched can my jaw go?
Count to ten, self, find your inner calm and just … breathe … slow …

Finally, your thoughts are laid out there
Said with lots of thought and care
While my look burns a hole at whatever I fix my stare

I’m sorry, yes, thank you, you’re right
But remember – personal problems are heavy, another person’s are light
And I may appreciate your words when the problem’s end is in sight

I called for your two cents, but I got ten
Now I’ve got my original problem, plus a side of aggravation
But you know what – I’ll still be calling you again

On a personal note: Thanks mom (for reading the haikus and the compliment) and cousin G Pat (for being awesome)!

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Du Jour of the Week

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Weekly Wacko (29)

April 16, 2010

Kids These Days!

Note: This happened in California, and I wrote this while still living in California.

One day after work I decided I didn’t want to make any food. This is common enough. I also didn’t want to drive, so that limited me to one of the few fast food places within easy walking distance.

I left my apartment and was still on the street in my neighborhood. I live in a small apartment complex and am mostly surrounded by houses. This makes it feel more like the neighborhoods I’m used to, which is nice.

Three middle school-aged girls were walking in my direction. I was on the phone, calling my sister (she and I both will call each other to help kill time while walking somewhere or driving somewhere – though I do it much more often than she does. Sorry E$).

While passing me one of the girls yelled, “you’re cute!”

I thought this was pretty funny. Ah, to be young and loud and whatever else they are.

Unexpectedly, I heard a slight noise behind me and then –

SLAP!

One of the girls had doubled back, run up behind me and took it upon herself to slap me on the rear end. The old tuchus. After doing this she began to run away while the other girls giggled like hyenas. She yelled, while still running away, “I like your butt!”

Around that time my sister answer and tried to figure out why I was at the same time scared, amused, and more flattered than I’d care to admit.

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Weekly Wacko

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