A Series of Random Poems by Dr Dave Menke on September 7, 2011

This is a number of un-related poems, off the top of my head, on September 7, 2011. Many were just stuck in my mind for years, and I decided to share them. I have used poetic license to paraphrase some things that may have been originally created by some other person, but I have not purposely tried to copy any one else’s work. (If you think I have, let me know, and I will remove or change it).

IDK and IDC
Think I’ll go and pull my hair
I don’t like people I don’t like
And wish they’d all take a hike!

Damn our nation’s IRS!
They sure can make a mess!
One day a settlement a second day money back
And yet on a third, a bill giving me a heart attack!

Here’s our plan, Stan
At least short term
We’re not working with a man named Dan
But Zane who is quite firm

President of our Stake
So is the man Zane
Who’s ideas aren’t half-baked
But quite lucid and sane.

His last name is Kartchner, and that’s for sure
We know his hands are clean and pure
Unraveling this convoluted spiritual and bureaucratic mess
Is something that we believe he can do best.

A physician by trade is our leader Zane
Who we have faith will cause our obstacles to go down the drain.
So that one day soon, this man who’s quite clever
Will help Gail, LukeAdam, and David, be sealed forever.

And so, my son, once that is done,
We will be free to follow the sun
To hither to yon or wherever we forge
Perhaps e’en unto Utah at a place called Saint George.

The Lord is my shepherd
Or so goes the Psalm
But just in case
We’d better get a bomb!
(Original author: Tom Lehrer)

I come before you, to stand behind you
To tell you something I know nothing about
Admission is free, so pay at the door
Pull up a chair, and sit on the floor

Early one morning late last night
Two dead boys got up to fight
Back to Back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other

A deaf policeman heard the noise
And came to kill the two dead boys
A mute psychotic shrieked in fright
With words of joy on this ghastly night.

If you don’t believe this lie is true
Ask the Blind man. He saw it, too.

(One of many versions of this poem,
origin unknown, but it is from old
British Folklore of the early 1300’s)