MONDAY'S POETS!
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Yikes, tOdd's on the warpath! His 'TV fact', and 'What's happening' are mighty menacing right now....cheer up tOdd


'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through tOdd's room,
Were a sad buncha fellas, full of sadness and gloom.
The website had ended, no mon-ay, no doubt,
Creditors calling and tOdd had no clout.

tOdd shuffled about on this tOdd-shuffly day,
Blue robe and some coff-ay, flip flops by the way.
He pondered his future, by golly 'twas bleak,
His last can 'o' tuna ran out late last week.

His li'l guys snug, all warm in their nest,
"tOdd don't be sad, you're da bomb, you're da best!"
Mep in his sleeper, Elf up in his thong,
Were drinking their mepnog while tOdd sang a song.

Then down on the street, they heard a loud truck,
tOdd ran to the window, to see what the fuck?
Someone it seems was upsetting the street.
'Twas but Mr. Deng, ace sneaks on his feet!

Mr. Deng had flown in on Wasabi Air.
tOdd was elated and brought him upstairs.
Mr. D made tOdd laugh, like only he can,
but did not make mention of the impending plan.

They went out to a bar, for some boobs in the face,
Drank brews, ate some Pringles, and tore up the place.
They wandered back home, 'daisy' and spun,
but saw the apartment dishevelled, undone.

tOdd grabbed for his frypan, and raised it just so,
He screamed 'yellow words' and told 'it' to go.
Then fear turned to glee as they walked in the door,
'Posters' were there with 'flower-guy' from the store!

It seemed that 'flower-guy' had raked in some hard cash,
Won the Power Ball lottery the week before last.
He remembered how kind tOdd was with his deed,
And decided to repay him, in HIS time of need.

'10 Million Smackers made out to tOdd R!'
'You've brought joy to the masses, 'cause that's who you are!'
tOdd humbly accepted and the part-ay began,
Blue Meanies all flown in, according to plan.

They cavorted and hollered and tOdd called them by name;
Now Virgil, and Greeny, Ronnie, Miss Lane,
There's ED, VB, OP and then Z
Maestra, Doc Z, Cuppajo, and Jiggy.

Becak and Becky, Marney and Scrubs,
Mevy and Arwen, and an anon named Bubs.
Aurora and Nico, Azusa, Buffalo,
All knew in their head, this was THE place to go.

Tamrah, MmeX, Edgar Allan peejays,
Chica, Elaine, and the tiger DJ.
Hellbomb and Fluffy, Lizzlee and the Squid,
Rocks, Jess and Roxy, did you hear what they did?

Ex-pensive jeans, Ginny and Kathleen,
You would just die if you knew what I'd seen!
Truly and Appy, Ruby and Paul,
FG and Soozin, and no that's not all!

There were a few more, there's Bif Sluggo and Jude,
Citizen, no one, and Brian Fellow, the dude.
Brandon and Anna, and Smelly mell-y,
Shed Head and Rachel, and don't forget AG.

Posters flew in and they partied for days,
The caterers came with scads of cook-ays.
Sambucca and brewskis and gin and JD,
All were emptied out quite nicely you see.

Elf up and the Mepman had mastered the shooters,
And paraded around showing off their big hooters.
tOdd started his plans, book deals came along,
Cartoons and a network, a new line of thongs.

Meptopia started, Mepcot on the table,
The world is his oyster as they say in the fable.
Good vibes to you all, and you'll find life is odd,
Good fortune shows up, and we all wish it for tOdd!

(sincere apologies for any omitted names)
I Wish everyone this kinda luck! 

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I wrote this poem to submit to that Leap Year Babies site thing you linked to a while back, but they never put it up. 
Some of the rhymes are kind of forced and cheesy, and it mentions the months poem bank, but I think it's okay, as far as stupid month poems go. 
Here it is:
 
"Thirty Days hath September,
April, June, and November.
All the rest have thirty one..."
But the poem isn't done.
No one knows all the words to this poem.
If anyone does, I'd like to know 'em.
I bet the poet left the ending blank,
So someone could start a poem bank
With different versions of the end.
But really, it's all just pretend.
 
How does this poem help, anyway?
One could just as easily say,
"Thirty days hath September
August, May, and December."
Same syllables, the words still rhyme.
And you could say it all the time,
And never know that you were wrong,
Until someone sings it as a song:
"Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November."
 
This poem just plain doesn't work.
Whoever wrote it was a jerk.

- The Almighty Doer of Stuff

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Read that you were thinking about going back to poems on Mondays, so here's one for ya...

 

A Warrior's Epitaph

By Katie Morrissey

 

I knew what I was getting into

When you put your hand in mine

When I promised forever

The choice was mine

It was offered, I accepted

I knew what was to come

There was always the chance

And we hoped it never would arise

 

But when they brought the news

On leaden wings

With heavy hearts

I did not shed a tear

I knew all along that this might happen

And prayed to God it wouldn’t be you

Now a million prayers

Wouldn’t bring you home

And there’s nothing I can do

 

When I saw the flag

I did not cry

For I knew it would not help

And ‘ere the guns were fired

I did not let show

The pain I felt inside

As the eagles flew

And slowly parted

I did not let them see

That deep inside

The loss was killing me

 

After all

Was said and done

And I was alone once more

I let slip a single tear

That stood for so much more

Than the loss of one dear man

 

The heart of a warrior

Still beats

Long after he is gone

His legacy is carried out

In the freedom of his fellow man

He has paid

The ultimate price

And I pray you understand

That we are here

Because of him

And that this is our land

Because he fought to defend it

He gave to us

A most precious gift

And asked nothing in return

 

It only seems right

That after the flames are all long gone

The pain lingers on

As a lasting reminder

That freedom

Does not come easy

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send me your poem. any kind. any style. anything. 

and let me know how you'd like to be credited. 

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