The Pizzly Bear

There is a bear called pizzly
Half polar bear, half grizzly
He likes his soda fizzly
And his tenderloin steak sizzly
But he hates it when it’s drizzly
‘Cause it makes his hair all frizzly.

The Dreadlock

Little Billy Batton-Wings
Was not afraid of many things
He’d even once explored a cave
You see, he really was quite brave
But Billy lived on Avenue Pine
And what sent shivers up his spine
Was one old neighbor down the block
The one they simply called “Dreadlock.”
The Dreadlock’s house looked dark and cold
And very, very, very old
The Dreadlock never left his house
And was as quiet as a mouse
But rumor had it that at night
The Dreadlock had an appetite
For eating supple little things
Like boys named Billy Batton-Wings
And that’s why Billy did avoid
The house of this strange humanoid
A man whom he had never seen
But whom he knew was dreadful mean.
Now as it happened to turn out
Young Billy was a new Boy Scout
And every August they’d fund-raise
By selling donuts (chocolate glazed)
“Each boy scout,” said the leader, “should
Sell donuts in his neighborhood.
Don’t skip a single house or shack.
I don’t want Boy Scouts here who slack.”
Poor Billy cried, “But on my block
There lives the dreaded old Dreadlock!”
The leader said, “Just ring the bell.
And if he doesn’t come, oh well.”
“But if he does, I’ll have you know
He’ll eat me up from head to toe!”
The leader said, “Enough of that.
A Boy Scout’s not a scaredy cat.”
And with that, there was no more talk
Poor Billy went home to his block
He sold his donuts faithfully
To Mrs. Blops and Mr. Glee
And many other neighbors too
Like Mr. Bloke and Mrs. Gloo
And at the setting of the sun
He’d been to every house but one
He almost thought he’d stop at that
But then thought, “I’m no scaredy cat.
I’ll march right up to Dreadlock’s door
And sell a dozen, maybe more!”
But as he headed to the gate
His knobby knees began to shake
And in his throat there formed a lump
His heart began to thump and thump
And though he was in state of shock
He gave the door a “knock knock knock”
The hinges soon began to creak
He made a little frightened squeak
For in the door a figure loomed
And Billy felt that he was doomed
The figure was tall, dark and strong
With dreadful dreadlocks three feet long
And Billy with his mind ablur
Asked, “W-would you l-like some donuts sir?
Y-you see, I’m t-trying to fund-raise…
They’re 50 cents, and ch-chocolate glazed…”
But Dreadlock, like a crafty fox
Just snatched away the donut box
Then disappeared inside his house
As quickly as a sewer mouse
Poor Billy cried out in dismay
He thought of all he’d have to pay
A box of donuts! That was worth
More than he had in his small purse
He’d tried so hard to fund-raise, yet
He’d very soon end up in debt
So with his head drooped toward the floor
He walked off sadly from the door
Until he thought he heard a squeak
A quiet, rusty door-hinge creak
He glanced back at the house so old
And, lo! He saw a pot of gold!
Upon the doorstep, in the night
The gold was like a shining light
Turns out that crafty dreadlocked fox
Had paid up for the donut box
Young Billy grabbed the pot with glee
And took it home for all to see
His parents said, “Well how ‘bout that!
Our Billy ain’t no scaredy cat.”
Then Billy saw with his own eyes
That etched upon the gold pot’s side
There was a phrase, a phrase which said:
“The Dreadlock is not one to dread.”

Two Bananas

There are, of course, an awful lot
Of funny gods and deities
And in this poem I’ll introduce
Approximately three of these.
To start, there is the God of Sun
Who turns his light bulb on and off
And in his free time listens to
Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.
And then there is the God of Wind
The gusts and breezes are his toys
But when he’s eaten Taco Bell
He’s prob’ly one you should avoid.
The God of Oceans is the chap
Who makes the waves go in and out
He has control of all the fish
From great blue whales to rainbow trout.
And though that’s three, there’s one god more
Whose powers, to be fair, are moot
He’s called the Two Bananas God
And carries pairs of yellow fruit.
Well, these four gods, as it turns out
Were neighbors on Utz Spaga Street
And at the local theist club
The four of them would weekly meet.
The God of Sun would always start
By showing off what he could do
“See that woman in her car?” he’d ask
“The one right there that’s dressed in blue?”
The other gods would nod
And he’d say, “Take a look, you guys!”
And make the sun shine brightly
Straight into the woman’s eyes.
The sunlight made the woman squint
She screamed, “I fear I cannot see!”
And panicked, turned the wheel
And drove into a large oak tree.
The three gods watched the woman crash
And laughed a hearty laugh, each one
“A splendid joke!” they cried aloud
“You’re quite a trickster, God of Sun!”
And then it was the Wind God’s turn
To play along in the charades
He picked his victim carefully:
A Kansas girl with pigtail braids
He said, “Watch this!” and blew his winds
A grand tornado he did cause
His mighty gusts swept up the girl
And blew her and her braids to Oz.
“Terrific!” cried the gods, “What joy!
And what a funny braided kid!”
Just Two Bananas didn’t laugh
But then again, he never did.
“It’s my turn!” said the Ocean God
He’d already picked his victim out:
A Bluebry Island surfer boy
Named Lemon Jimmy Huffer Snout.
“That’s there’s the one!” said Ocean God
“Let’s hope the fellow’s somewhat brave.”
The four gods watched and saw a fin
Appear above the ocean waves.
Poor Lemon saw the shark fin too
He whimpered like a cornered pup
The jaws approached and very soon
The surfer boy was gobbled up.
The gods began guffawing
Bursting out in rowdy hoots
Except for one—who peeled and ate
Two simple yellow fruits.
“Well, that was fun,” said Oceans God
“But gosh, my skin feels dry.”
“My head hurts,” said the God of Wind
“It’s time to say goodbye.”
And so they left the theist club
And went their separate ways
With three of them affected
By a feeling of malaise.
The next week all four met again
To show pranks--each by turn
The Oceans God performed a flood
And Sun God gave sunburns.
The Wind God caused a hurricane
Which killed a boy named Barber Newt
But Two Bananas merely sat
And ate two simple yellow fruits.
And though the three gods laughed
They felt quite weak and rather ill
The God of Sun had muscle cramps
And Oceans God had chills.
The next week when they met again
They had no mood for fun
The Wind God’s face was full of zits
And Sun God had the runs.
The Wind God said, “No games today.
My face is full of pus
Let’s google all our symptoms
And find out what’s wrong with us.”
They looked at many illnesses
From hives to blood leukemia
But in the end, they learned they had
Acute hypokalemia.
“Paralysis is next!” they cried
“And then our deaths are fast to come.
And all because we didn’t eat
Enough potassium.”
The gods all wailed and sobbed aloud
And pulled their hair out from the roots
Except for one, who merely sat
And ate two simple yellow fruits.

The Dromedary

Ought a person to be wary
Of the hairy dromedary?
Is it smart to be afraid
Of one that walks digitigrade?
No—fear not this ungulate
Although it may expectorate
It journeys over dunes of sand
Much better than the Bactrian
And like all things, with humps it’s true
No need for two when one will do.

Waiting for Gideon

Have you ever been waiting? Waiting for Gideon?
Gideon’s eyes are as black as obsidian
And if you wait for him—this is the truth
He’ll bring you whatever you’ve wanted since youth.
See, I’d wanted a baby since I was just five
A baby that’s pudgy and smart and alive
“My baby,” I thought, “will grow like a tree.
And if I just wait, Gids will bring it to me.”
So I waited for years on the streets of New York
Looking out for Old Gids, my personal stork
And after ten years he finally arrived!
He said, “You want a baby that’s smart and alive?”
And I said, “Yes, yes! Just bring it right here!”
“It’s everywhere,” he said, and then disappeared.
In my head I felt angry and cheated and mean
I was so darn upset I began to turn green
But then I heard everyone starting to yell
“Get down!” someone screamed, “It’s about to be hell!”
So I lay on the ground like the rest, and stayed put
There was panic like something real bad was afoot
There were rumors and whispers, and some guy named Pork
Said a giant volcano was there in New York!
He said the first minute there’d be an eruption
Then lava and death and all kinds of disruption!
Well, I didn’t think Pork really seemed like the cleverest
Until I saw something as big as Mt. Everest!
An enormous volcano, right there in the road
And it looked like it was just about to explode!
I was laying right there, so I had a good viewing
And boy if that mountain just didn’t start spewing!
But it didn’t spew lava or anything hot
In fact, it spewed BABIES! Right there on the spot!
I was suddenly swimming in infantile ocean
I felt as insane as a crackhead in motion
A volcano of babies! How truly absurd!
Old Gideon really was true to his word
And although I love babies, I sure wasn’t greedy
There have to be babies enough for the needy
So I picked just one infant—a cute little punk
And he was a bit fat so I named him Chunk Munk
He blew bubbles of spit, bubbles straight from the deep
And I knew he was just the right baby to keep
So trust in Old Gideon, he knows your fate
If you wait long enough then it won’t be too late
Keep your fingers crossed tight! It could just be true
That there’s a volcano out there for you too.

Jerome the Sad Cloud

You know a lot of things, my friend
And others know them too
Like how to turn the TV off
And how to use the loo
You know that pasta's floppy
And that urchins have sharp spines
But here's one thing you've never known:
The clouds can read our minds.

They're up there in the sky all day
With nothing much to do
And so to pass the time they watch
The thoughts of me and you
Of course when they're not doing that
They think thoughts of their own
Some are sad, and some are glad
And one was named Jerome.

Jerome was not a happy cloud
In fact, he cried a lot
"I'm fat and gross and dumb," he'd think
"I might as well just rot."
"I haven't got a single friend
I'm lonely as can be
And surely there is no one else
Who feels the same as me."

He didn't often read our minds
"There's just no point," he'd sigh
But one day, merely on a whim
He thought that he would try.
He picked a tall and handsome man
Whose name was Fred P. Frinks
"I bet his life is great," he said
"I wonder what he thinks."

Fred Frinks was walking home from work
And this is what he thought:
"I'm fat and gross and awful dumb
I might as well just rot.
I haven't got a single friend
I'm lonely as can be
And surely there is no one else
Who feels the same as me."

Jerome was shocked; he gasped aloud
"I never would have guessed!
This man's down in the dumps, and yet
He's wealthy and well-dressed!"
And then Jerome felt something new
Which we call empathy
"I know just how he feels," he thought
"He's just the same as me!"

"Poor Fred should know he's not alone.
I'll help him out," he said.
"I cannot speak to humans
So I'll give a hug instead."
And so he spread his wispy arms
And floated down to earth
And gave Fred Frinks the biggest hug
He'd ever had since birth

Jerome thought, "That'll cheer him up!"
But Fred began to sob
"There's nothing worse," he moaned
"Than when a clear day turns to fog."

Milky Mix-up

There once was a young Mrs. Chow
Who gave birth to a fully-grown cow
She said, "I don´t mind
That it´s not of my kind
But who does the breastfeeding now?"