Latte-dah
Summer is over, so Starbucks declares, /
bringing forth their fall pumpkin wares. /
Temperatures still roiling across the US. /
When they will break is anybody’s guess. /
Hurricanes hit California and other coasts, /
but Iced Pumpkin Cream Chai Latte Starbucks boasts. /
It may be 69 days until Halloween /
but this declaration seems self-serving and a bit obscene.
Filed under 2023, poem, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker
Tiger lily
No, Mr. Baker,
it is not an
invasion.
It’s a Tiger lily.
The invasion comes
a few days
later
with beer and
outdoor cooking.
That’s when
the aliens
—grill your meat
—light your fireworks
—conflagrate and celebrate
your auto-da-fe future.
.
.
#humor #poem #poetry #satire #tigerlily #flower #alien #invasion #auto-da-fe #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #photo #June #Wednesday #062823 #2023
Rhymes with orange
He bickers and whines. /
One is eight or nine. /
One wears a red tie.
.
.
#poem #haiku #davidebooker #poetry #poet #writing #writer #may #saturday #2019 #orange #redtie #child #whines #bickers #trump #photo #050419
Filed under 2019, haiku, photo, poem, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker, satire
Headline
Happy Mother’s Day! /
Early Detection Saves Lives. /
My mother’s or mine?
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #newspaper #headline #poor_placement #satire #mothersday #davidebooker
#may #sunday #2021 #050821
Filed under 2021, haiku, photo, Photo by author, photo by David E. Booker, poem, poet, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker
One Percenter Blues
My Merc is great
My cup holders rate
My seats auto warm
My bunions and corns.
I got the one percenter blues.
My maid’s an alien
Her English is failin’
I keep explainin’
That her taxes are makin’ her
One of these one percenter blues.
I got our money
All sweet as golden honey
My life is plu-sunny
For me and my rare bunny.
I got the one percenter blues.
.
.
#poem #poetry #poet #cartoon #blues #rhyming #satire #nichemarket #humor #money #alien #taxes #honey #davidebooker #zits #november #113019
Filed under 2019, Cartoon, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
Tunashamed
Yes, I have been tunashamed.
They descended upon me like ranchers with mange.
They said stop eating that fish, you fool.
Beef’s the only golden rule.
A burger now, a meatloaf later.
Or you’ll be eating exotic gater.
A steak to the heart is the way to go.
This even a vampire knows.
An eye of round, a pound of chuck.
Such cuts of beef will bewitch your luck.
Tender as a filet mignon
Can warm your loins when the nights are long.
No deer, no rabbit, no pheasant will do
When you make a manly stew.
Yes, I have been tunashamed.
I wear the sticker; I can’t complain.
I must do my penance now,
So that later I can eat the cow.
.
.
#satire #poem #rhyming #beef #tuna #shamed #tunashamed #borrowedohoto #davidebooker #september #thurdsday #090822
Filed under 2022, humor, photo, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
No popcorn, no pets
No popcorn, no pets,
No baseball, no regrets,
Rapture to heaven
Is no Seven / Eleven.
No Slushies, no Mars bars,
No pizza, no beer bars.
In heaven, the best
Beat their bloody chests
And sing hosanna
At the absence of fauna.
Nothing to make you sneeze
As you fall to your knees.
Fluffy’s on Earth
About to give birth
And if you want us to care,
Put your money there
On the web site line,
So Fluffy will be fine.
When to heaven you go
But your pets are a no-no,
We will watch them with love
While you’re in heaven above.
We atheists who remain
Or Hindus or Jaynes,
Or Jews or Buddhists
Or even the occasional nudist,
We will take care of your pets
So you’ll have no regrets,
No guilt on your soul,
Because you will know
Your Fuffy is fine
As long as your dimes shine.
070922
Filed under 2022, humor, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker, satire, Saturday, Silly Saturday
Headline
Happy Mother’s Day! /
Early Detection Saves Lives. /
My mother’s or mine?
.
.
#haiku #poem #poetry #newspaper #headline #poor_placement #satire #mothersday #davidebooker
#may #sunday #2021
Filed under 2021, haiku, photo by David E. Booker, Poetry by David E. Booker
The mayor taped
I saw the mayor taped to the door. /
His mug was one you couldn’t ignore. /
He promised a meet and greet; /
Then a rasslin’ match to complete. /
I don’t know if I’ll attend. /
Such events do tend to offend. /
While politics can be rough, /
Forearm smashes are beyond enough. /
Seeing bodies thrown around, /
Will make me wonder if Cas Walker’s back above ground. /
Maybe I prefer a bit less sham, /
With politicians to be less ham, /
To save the pork for the table, /
And work for the good of all available.
041821
Filed under 2021, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
There once was a writer of satire,
Who feared his profession would soon expire.
No matter what he would write
Reality very soon made it trite,
Or worse, make it something to desire.
Booker's Blog 