Shot in the Arm

I used to write letters
Instead of studying
My time is now much better spent
Writing poetry and living

Although its pretty hard
I now have the flu
I should have got my shot
Instead of catching you

A warning poem now
Because I cough and wheeze
If you don’t get your shot
I’ll kick you in your knees

Showering with Friends

There is a spider in my shower
I see him in there every hour
Who knows if he just likes to clean
Himself or if he’s there for sheen

While I shower his web does glisten
Maybe he likes to peacefully listen
To the music I play while I wash
As all around him the waters slosh

Usually I’m a horrid murderer
Of bugs and insects I see, though never a torturer
I can’t abide small things that scurry
Or always look like they’re in a hurry

I’m somewhat ashamed of my murderous past
And future, but I swear that integrity will last
The spider in the shower and I
Have an agreement beyond the sky

The spider will kill all bugs of the bathroom
And I will no longer have to fume
At the bugs who invade my space
They don’t even pay rent! Lazy invaders of my place

Vampirism

I can tell you tales of lore
But I refuse to step into gore
Of some lonely nights

There are lots of types of vampires
Abundant but such poor hires
They can’t keep to themselves

Those habitual, emotional and electric
Also some are quite eclectic
They can’t work independently

I’ve nothing other against them
Except they easily disturb my REM
Thieving me of sleep

Nobody cares about the crime
Unless it applies to them, not mine
Bystanders are anti-vampire

Standard vamps may suck your blood
Until you fall down with a heavy thud
But maybe instead of using you, they just want a friend

Cacaophony

The morning light is bright
But I have dreamt of chocolate
Bitter, dark and bite-able
A mix of cacao and cacao fat

The cacao tree brings pointed fate
Most all enjoy its fruit
They ravage it for all the taste
They pillage, steal, and loot

Violent nature cycles through
People eat cacao
Mother nature east the people
Everything is chow

Who would have thought that
Chocolate would own a violent history

Tales of Insomnia 3

And so I was in bed last night
And you know with darkness I’m pretty tight
Because we spend so much time
Together, awake but not sublime

I think the dark is getting tired
Of me. I think it wants my conscious fired
I’d be totally fine with it
If I could sleep I think it’d quit

A week or so my circles grow
So oft awake to hear the crow
Even if I wish to nap
I cannot so I’m about to snap

Not wanting to bite off any heads
It’s just, all day I dream of beds
All day I wander daydreaming
Though inside covertly screaming

This poem has siblings:
Tales of Insomnia: Part 1
Tales of Insomnia: Part 2