Indignance
There once was a boy who was curious,
Not angry or bitter or furious,
Just wondered some stuff
And posted it rough,
And promptly was labeled injurious.
Rule #4
There once was a rule that was broken
In answer to words that were spoken
With best of intent
Yet hastily spent,
And here is a rhyme as a token.
Overreaction
There once was a site no one went to
Because no one cared to or meant to
In fact, with most sites,
What one person writes,
Folks see only if they are sent to.
Thinking Space
There once was an old attic bedroom
With plenty of floor but no headroom
Whose door never locked,
But still people knocked
Until someone barged into said room.
Counterissues 5
Bird in hand,
Bush is bare;
Life is bland,
Losing hair.
Soldiery
And should we both go off to war,
The homefires left untended,
The outlook for the children? Poor,
Exposed and undefended.
Sanctuary
So can't He see I need a wife
To woo me into peace,
Or stand beside, amid the strife
When conflict will not cease?
Strategery
Perhaps I'll never speak again,
So never to offend,
But silent, pray for souls of men
Who do not know their end.
The Ranting Coworker
Too quick to opine
In absence of fact:
These pearls before swine--
Too late to retract!
Issues 6
Reads books,
Knows things;
Likes looks,
Not swings.
Issues 5
Has "calling";
Not stalling.
Likes plants,
Wants grants.
Things We Wish God Still Did
Speak aloud
From a cloud
Counterissues 4
Bonnie said
She was led
Counterissues 3
Betting Prins
Always wins.
Counterissues 2
Family,
23
Clarification
Too much, not other way
(Or else I wouldn't say).
Counterissues
Good hair,
Really kind.
Stayed there,
Didn't mind.
Fashion
Grew up or watched MTV?
Teenager or twenty-three?
Improved or defaced?
Enhanced or erased?
For the In-Law
The Chinese change inflection;
Do women change direction?
Dismal Options
Left alone,
End unknown.
Questions asked,
Truth unmasked.
Likely bad,
Makes me sad.
Quandry
Should call first,
Fear the worst.
Issues 4
Far too able
(Talk and such).
Brings to table
Far too much.
Assignment of Blame
Jason did this, little punk!
Prayed against me--shoulda thunk!
Issues 3
Has plans
Already;
Dull man's
Too steady.
Issues 2
Inaccessible,
Not addressable.
Rather pretty,
More's the pity.
Issues
Chews gum,
Wants school,
Not dumb,
Too "cool."
First Impressions Headline
"Eye Shadow Stinks,"
Unblogger Thinks
Rebuke
For love of Christ, be still, O tongue,
And let your Master speak!
Lay down your wagging song unsung,
And own that you are weak!
Forsake your trust in worldly wile,
And hope in God above!
Repent of pride and and flee from guile;
Say naught but in His love!
Tastes Like Beef
I've never had a dolphin,
But I have eaten shark.
I've never been a-golfin',
But I know where to park.
A Rhyme Not Worthy of a Title
So here's what I'm trying to say.
The recent stuff gen'rally stinks.
It's bland, and I worried today
That possibly somebody thinks
I'm cheating or breaking the rules,
For which I would have no excuse
Since at my disposal are tools
To change them and end the abuse.
But I think they're fine as they stand,
As long as you know what I meant:
The sap is what had to be banned;
For other cruft rules can be bent.
Indian Palate Cleanser
Insipid is a cold white sauce
On chewy rice. I'm at a loss
To find a better metaphor.
I'll tell you when I think of more.
Self Defense
What I mean to say
Is yes, it's all stupid, but
Not insipid
Insipidity
Lukewarm mealy mush
About nothing but in love
With its lukewarm-ness
Rule #5
I'm frightfully close here to breaking
A rule that I made for myself,
When rhyming means talk about baking
A cake in the shape of an elf.
Earn Meaningless Unblog Points
I bet you thought the post below
Was all about a phone call, yes?
If you were my friend Bill, you'd know
It's something else. You care to guess?
Musings From Grandma's iMac During a Telephone Call
The tick of this infernal clock
Is bound to drive me near insane.
Perhaps I ought to take a walk,
Returning when the future's plain.
Julie Spoils a Good Thing
When Julie bought a book on charm,
She reasoned it could do no harm,
Since beauty is a gift of God.
Now, was poor Julie's logic flawed?
It wouldn't be, had Julie read
The book for its intent; instead,
Poor Julie focused less on grace
Than how to have a pretty face.
And so, as Julie aged, she grew,
Increasingly, a pretty shrew
Who scorned the girl whose outfit clashed
But wore her meanness unabashed.
So Julie's pretty pear-shaped head
Was uglified by things she'd said
And all her beauty came to naught,
Because of love that she forgot.
Julie Buys a Book
Poor Julie had a pear-shaped head.
"Oh, What am I to do?" she said.
"It surely wouldn't do me harm
To find myself a book on charm."
"Where better," Julie thought, "to look
For such a necessary book
Than in my local Christian store?"
And shortly she was out the door.
"See, here it is," she cried with glee,
"The haircut that was made for me!
And all these fashion tips to boot!
I love this book! I'll take it! Woot!"
So Julie learned to wear her hair
To complement her facial pear,
And ev'ryone was glad she'd bought
The book on charm. It helped a lot.
The Unceremonious Revoking of License
Hi all. This unblog started back when I was living all alone.
It used to be that I was free to choose its style and set its tone.
My goal at first was just to have an outlet for my lonesome thought,
But one with rules to keep me mindful of the discipline I sought.
I thought that I could share with God my thoughts and prayers in writing here,
To document in formal verse what otherwise would disappear.
As such, I planned to only post what I considered free of rant
And somehow worthy of a read, if only for a kooky slant.
This all worked fine until I moved and found myself with little time
And readers I had entertained (or tried at least) with months of rhyme.
I felt an obligation to preserve the unblog's posting pace,
Instead of leaving it to rot (if things can rot in cyperspace).
When Ryan came to town we played some pool and talked about the 'net
And how it's hard to keep in touch and how I hadn't emailed yet.
He said that rhyming worked for him, but I had been so slow to post
That I felt guilty writing something maybe once a week at most.
So enter extra authors, where the goal was now community,
Which never really happened since you all were just as slow as me.
And now I have a 'blog that doesn't have the style or tone I'd choose,
And I have fans from church whose readership I'd truly hate to lose.
So unblog is reverting to the boring thing it used to be,
And future posts (if any come) will all be written just by me.
Expect a dearth of rhyming in the next three months or so at least,
And more if I succumb to complications from a rampant yeast.
