In heaven I’ll be perfect and I won’t have any sin.
I’ll never be annoying and I won’t be rude again.
So love me now the way I am instead of getting mad,
‘Cause now will be your only chance to love me while I’m bad.
In heaven I’ll be perfect and I won’t have any sin.
I’ll never be annoying and I won’t be rude again.
So love me now the way I am instead of getting mad,
‘Cause now will be your only chance to love me while I’m bad.
Mistakes keep people humble so I know about my fate–
If I require this many then I must be really great.
To bear the shame of all your wrongs and face the people still,
To leave your house while knowing you don’t have a perfect will,
To know that you could ruin things on any given day,
To know that you are evil but to live life anyway,
To be with all the holy people knowing that you ain’t–
Enduring as a sinner surely makes you quite a saint.
She’s always smiling, full of grace, and kind on every day,
So either she is really good or always gets her way.
The lunatics get locked away for saying they’re divine
And telling everybody they are God’s angelic sign.
but God’s own image lives in every sacred human soul,
And there’s a living remnant left of what the darkness stole.
So chain the ones who say that they are part of heaven’s plot,
but really all the crazy ones are those who say they’re not.
If you spend your time correcting the mistakes you’ve made before
It leaves a lot less time for you to mess up even more.
There’s people who have social skills and wit and charm and grace.
They know just what to say when interacting face to face.
They know which fork goes where and how to dance and interview.
And how to shake your hand just right and how to party, too.
But just plain being nice can help the shyest, simple fool.
The greatest social skill there’s been is just the golden rule.
I want the dirt on everyone. I want to know their sin.
It makes me feel much better ‘bout how awful I have been.
I want to know what’s wrong with every person who I see
But that is just more dirt that every person has on me.
The artist said “I don’t like science. It’s of little worth.”
The scientist replied “Then you don’t understand the earth.”
“Though you don’t like to study creatures, trees , and rocks and sod,
The artists most of all should see that it’s the art of God.
The cowards have more courage than the fearless ones who boast.
They overcome more fear to do what’s easier for most.
In heaven God may give out purple hearts and maybe more
To all agoraphobics who went in a grocery store.
In battlefields and football fields, the glory’s plain to see
But there’s a little hunch that’s slowly rising up in me.
A whisper saying “What about the boring places, too?”
Where people do the simple things that they have got to do.
The kitchen sinks and laundromats and golden barley fields
Where people still don’t know what all their toil and virtue yields
We may find out in heaven as we reminisce and feast
There’s glory there in places where right now we see the least
Start with eggs and marmalade.
Dump in beets and lemonade.
Add some mayo. Add some salt.
It may taste bad. (Not your fault.)
Add some garlic. Lots okay?
Leave it in the sun all day.
Garnish it with fishing bait.
Chill and serve to folks you hate.
Mein Kampf is not a masterpiece.
I’d like to turn the clock
To way-back-when and somehow give
Its author writer’s block.
I do not want to be too rude.
Forgive me if I’m snide.
But could you please go close that door
And not be on this side?
She used to be a debutante. She’d entertain them all.
She’d be the main attraction at the yearly Christmas ball.
But now she sits alone and eats some bread with lukewarm broth.
She was a social butterfly, but now she is a moth.
Most coin collectors keep their coins where they can all be seen.
But I keep mine at work inside the break room’s Coke machine
3 woolly wallumps found a pickle on the street.
They couldn’t quite agree on who would be the one to eat.
“Let’s just have a race!” exclaimed the fastest of the three.
“No, let’s see who’s the strongest,” said the big one happily.
The final woolly wallump picked the pickle up and cried,
“Your plans are all unfair. I know how we should all decide…
A pickle eating contest is the way that we will choose.”
He ate the pickle quickly, then exclaimed, “I guess you lose.”
I went into the grocery store to buy myself shampoo.
I wanted lots of candy. (That was not what I should do.)
Temptation didn’t win and I bought zero yummy sweets–
To celebrate I went into a Walgreens for some treats
Happy Meals are wonderful for little girls and boys
But, really, this live cockroach isn’t one of their best toys.
People who bring out the best in others like they should
Are nice to have around because they keep you looking good.
But there is value, too, in being rattled by a foe.
‘Cause when your darker side’s exposed,well, hey—at least you know.
The king of Southern Flarbyland took off his crown one day.
He thought that he should have it fixed to look another way.
“I want more stones on top of this. I want more gold as well.
I want more silver on the top and all the gems they sell.
I want my crown to be the best a king has ever had.
I want my crown to make all other crowns seem cheap and bad.
But by the time they fixed his crown and put it on his head,
The weight of it just broke his neck and he fell over dead.
Take away the comic strip and send away the clown.
I’m plenty entertained by just a person falling down.
Anonymity is great,
But then your good traits don’t get known.
And fame’s a blessed state
But then your dark side’s also shown.
I am serving you today-
It’s plain for all to see.
I am serving you today,
By letting you serve me.
A book about my life might be
Quite fun and filled with poetry.
But if you took out all my sin
The book might be a little thin.
I hung out with a playwright so he’d write me up a role.
I hung out with a preacher so he’d care about my soul.
I hung out with a doctor so he’d help me with my health.
I hung out with a banker so he’d store me up some wealth.
But I’m so mad that I could give each one a bloody lip
I think they all are using me for my companionship.
I have a lot of trophies.
I have racks and racks and racks.
A bunch of nice certificates and 1500 plaques.
I bet you think I earned them ’cause I try and never fail.
But I’m a trophy salesman–really, these are all for sale.
Poverty can be a gift that keeps one’s errors small.
A man can’t waste a million bucks if he’s got none at all.
I’d trade my trophies, all my feats, my noble works and deeds
For just a heart that’s happier when someone else succeeds.
Fight the system, fight the man!
Let’s break every rule we can!
Wait a second. Look around.
Faithful souls just can’t be found.
No one’s doing what they should…
Let’s rebel by doing good.
The wise professors gathered to discuss the golden rule.
They knew they were the smartest to attend their famous school.
They argued and debated and they furrowed every brow.
They knew it could be figured out but each one wondered how.
The Hebrew scholars made their case to every nodding head.
And then the old philosophers philosophized and read.
The men all left the meeting room suspecting there was more
And shuffled past the janitor who kindly held the door.
This lollipop is good and don’t believe the things they say…
The candy from a baby is quite hard to take away.
I always help my neighbor when I see that he’s in need
But it can take me quite a while to do just one good deed–
A minute to perform the act with just a little pout,
And up to twenty years to make sure everyone finds out.
My science class was hard.
It was a hell below all hells.
I sure found out what I am made of
(I am made of cells)
People drive each other crazy
Life can be a pain.
And that is why I’m thanking you.
You always drive me sane.
-The food here’s good. They told me so.
-I’ll bet it is.
-But there’s one thing I’d like to know.
-Whose pet it is?
It might be bad to be a fool who’s cheated every day
Because his soul’s so good and he thinks everyone’s that way.
But it’d be worse to be the scheming genius full of lies
Who lives his life suspecting folks are also in disguise.
Stripes versus polka dots
Which do I like best?
I like this shirt with lots of spots
But stripes are on this vest
I could just wear them both
And I’ve got just the thing to add
How nice I’ll look with all of tthis
And pants of yellow plaid.
Help us act like this tastes great.
Help us not regurgitate.
You’re really very charming, and your manners are refined
I’ve noticed it at Taco Bell on dates when we have dined.
You always use a napkin after drooling on your chin
And say that you are sorry when you burp and burp again.
I notice when you scratch yourself you try to do it fast
And when you roll your eyes at me it doesn’t really last.
Your cursing and your sighing and your passing gas so loud
Is always followed up by an “Excuse me” to the crowd.
Your muddy boots that leave the dirty footprints every where
Make quite a pretty pattern that looks nice beside the chair.
You ought to write a book about good manners–it’d be neat…
And leave it on the table where you always prop your feet.
I never mind if I’m misquoted
That’s why I don’t sue
As long as what they think I said
Is cleverer and true.
To have a consciencectomy… It really would be nice
Cause then I wouldn’t feel so bad whenever I do vice.
Oatis Henry made a living
painting yellow lines.
He also did the white ones
near the street lights and the signs.
Because of him the traffic flowed
and people crossed the street.
The safety cops knew where to stand
when they each worked a beat.
But one day Oatis Henry thought
he’d paint another way
Not thinking twice about what things
the mayor’d have to say.
Instead of lines he started painting
hopscotch courts and grids,
Some shuffleboard for old folks
and some four square for the kids.
At first there were some traffic jams
on each and every day.
But then the people loosened up
and went outside to play.
And if you want to know
why there’s no smog or filthy soot
Because of Oatis Henry
this whole city is on foot.
If you fail at everything
‘cause you are weak and frail
Take heart, my friend, because one day
You’re bound to fail to fail.
To show how much I care for you
Here’s just two lines and now I’m through.
A shop could not quite get its flag to stay up all the way
They kept it at half mast though nothing sad occurred that day
Assuming something sad took place and scared to seem like fools
The neighbors lowered theirs as well according to the rules.
The city council followed suit and then the state as well.
And even in D.C. each person’s spangled banner fell.
The flags flapped halfway up the poles against the bright blue sky
A nation was in mourning but the mobs did not know why.
The church is Christ’s big body and each part must do its share.
But I am the appendix so I’ll just relax in there.
The fancy words you learn from schools that I cannot afford
Can come in very handy when you stand to praise the Lord.
But even weakest minds display some wisdom when they bow.
And who would call a man a fool who simply utters “Wow.”
I tried collecting stickers but I quickly gave it up.
I tried collecting glasses, too, but only found a cup.
Stamps were fun for several weeks, but then I mailed them off.
I tried collecting lozenges but then I got a cough.
Though each of my collections is the smallest in the land,
My collection of collections has grown really, really grand.
The world fell down but look around.
There’s yellow tulips on the ground.
If earth is fallen, marred, and old,
Just think what heaven’s yards will hold.
Some things just don’t matter but discussing them is nice.
Is ice just frozen water or is water melted ice?
Cleanliness is Godliness. I hear it every day.
But that is just a lie that all the neat freaks like to say.
I’m mad that you have won this game
And shocked that I was beat.
But flattered still that you would care
Enough to go and cheat.
I wish I hadn’ta given all those poor folks bread to eat.
I could have spent that money on some stuff that’s really neat.
You can’t have too much clothing or too many paperweights
And now I’ve gone and wasted cash on filling up their plates.
Dessert first. That’s my rule.
Dessert last. Also cool.
The devil took my resume and looked it up and down.
He’d gone and checked my references from others in my town.
He said, “You’ve got experience with selfishness and vice.
You’ve wasted lots of time and skills. It’s really very nice.
We need a girl to push a rock and push it back again.
The person chosen, sweating fire, won’t stop til who knows when.
But I am sad to say my friend that though you’ve up and died,
In terms of getting into hell, you’re overqualified.
Act like you don’t hear
When people tell you something nice
That way they’ll repeat it
And you’ll get to hear it twice.
Whenever I hear sirens I will say a little prayer.
I do it every time because I truly deeply care.
If it’s a fire truck’s wail I hear I pray the house won’t burn
And if I hear an ambulance I pray with grave concern.
If it’s the cops then I will promptly get down on a knee.
And pray with all my soul that they aren’t on their way for me.
Here’s my promise to the world that I will never write
A poem about soiled Band-Aids being looked at in the light.
I won’t discuss the crusty blood that’s dried and turning brown.
I’d never dare to mention yellow pus that’s oozing down.
It’s way too gross to write about the scabs and germs and dirt
Upon the bandage you have used when you have gotten hurt.
So trust me not to list out words describing grody grime.
It’s really not a subject to include within a rhyme.
Your house is very lovely and my favorite thing of all
Is over here– I love this pretty portrait on the wall.
The painting is amazing! I suspect you paid a lot.
Just look at all the detail! My, what pretty eyes she’s got.
Well, goodness, I’m mistaken. I have goofed a bit I fear.
I didn’t see that really this is just a mirror here.
I do not want to be too rude.
Forgive me if I’m snide.
But could you please go close that door
And not be on this side?
When I receive the award for all the money I haven’t stolen, the people I haven’t murdered, and all the buildings I haven’t burned, I will dedicate it to all the orphans I haven’t clothed, the prisoners I haven’t visited, and the hungry people I haven’t fed.
Heroes do great things and they just can’t be thanked enough.
But who deserves a bigger prize for doing something tough?
The one who serves reluctantly for duty’s sake alone?
Or he who does what’s good because it thrills him to the bone?
You’re such an evil influence.
You make me do bad stuff.
Whenever I’m around you
I do not behave enough.
You’re such a bad philosopher,
I’m tired of all your lies.
If I could get away from you
I’d turn out pretty wise.
You lead me into trouble
And I gossip more with you.
Alone I do not break the rules
When you’re there I sure do.
I wish you’d stay away from me.
I’m tired of this old game.
Wait, no- I guess it’s kinda nice
To have someone to blame.
Is tragedy an ax that strikes and breaks your heart in two?
or pain’s peristent chisel slowly chipping into you?
Is tragedy a tidal wave that’s sudden, fierce and fast?
Or steady lapping waves of ache eroding hope at last?
.
I live in Greenville’s Mountains so the beach I rarely see
But thanks to earth’s erosion, Myrtle Beach will come to me.
Good bye, dear mind.
It was nice knowing you– I mean, knowing through you.
I’ll never forget that time that we won Trivial Pursuit together.
Actually, I will forget it, along with everything else,
Because you have left me.
I caught a shark!
A hundred pounds!
That’s what I estimate!
I wish my dad could see me now
but he was used as bait.
You say our generation lacks the virtue yours displayed.
You say that we are selfish and you shake your head, dismayed.
Well aren’t we all corrupt and rude, and isn’t it so sad-
But don’t forget that you’re the ones who must have raised us bad.
“I love my magic sweater!” shouted little Mary Sue.
Her brother smirked and said, “What kind of magic does it do?”
“It keeps me warm when I go out so I don’t get the flu.
And you are just a fool if that’s not magical to you.”
If you fail at everything
‘cause you are weak and frail
Take heart, my friend, because one day
You’re bound to fail to fail.
“Tell me what your symptoms are. What’s putting you in pain?”
“Well, thanks for caring, doctor, but my mom said don’t complain.”
What’s embarrassing:
Admitting you have herpes.
Worse: It’s goat herpes.
if A=B and B=C then A=C.
So if pizza is good and cherry limeade is good, then pizza is cherry limeade. Ii’s not difficult.
I’m pretty good at breathing and I’m pretty good at naps.
I’m not too bad at eating, and I’m good at wearing caps.
Sitting down comes natural and so does standing up.
I also have no trouble drinking water from a cup.
But even though I’m ordinary I will still stand tall.
It takes a lot of talent to exist with none at all.
Goodnight, my children—don’t be scared. Everything’s all right.
The monster might be full of all the kids he ate last night.
Gimme death or liberty!
That’s what they used to say.
But gimme gimme gimme is
The thing you hear today.
I’m sorry that you’re suffering.
You’re hurting, I can see.
And from the depths within my heart,
I’m glad it isn’t me.
Gee, thanks. One coke for the whole world? Do we have to share a straw, too?
To make each Sunday special in a very vivid way,
I’ll just be extra extra bad on every other day.
I’m always on my knees in prayer
(About our needy nation)
To see me not in church is rare
(That’s even on vacation)
I try to get the lost in there
(To save them from tarnation)
It goes to show how much I care
(About my reputation)
I think of others all the time.
I do it constantly.
I think of all the selfless things
that they could do for me.
Remember this as you go out to overcome the worst:
To be unlikely heroes you must be unlikely first.
I’m good at keeping secrets. All my friends will tell you so.
Right now I’m keeping one so well that even I don’t know
John loves Shelia. She loves Fred.
He loves Marcy. She loves Ed.
Ed loves Courtney, She loves Chad.
Cupid’s aim is really bad.
If you write your dog a letter
To discuss the stuff you feed it,
Don’t write the note in cursive
Cause he won’t know how to read it.
My deeds are all for others’ eyes. My prayers are for their ears.
I never do what’s truly good because of social fears.
But though my hollow heart reveals that really I can’t take it,
At least I care ‘bout what is right enough to try and fake it.
The gardener sprayed me with the hose-
I had no place to hide.
I smiled at him until I saw
That it was pesticide.
If beaver dams are nature,
Then apartments are as well.
We humans still are natural—
Just think about our smell.