In 2010, I began writing a little rhyme to accompany my annual holiday card to friends and family.
The rear in the photo is not my own.
It is entirely made of foam.
I hope it did not make you groan.
Won’t you please enjoy this poem…
Ode to Christmas
It’s that time of year again, when Christmas bells ring through the air.
Out of me and my two brothers, only my head still grows hair.
Egg nog and hot chocolate are tasty treats this time of year.
On the drive to Iowa, I’m careful to watch out for deer.
Caroling is a fun way to spread the Christmas joy around.
This one time my number 2 was so big it would not flush down.
Santa and his eight reindeer traverse the globe in just one night.
I don’t get a lot of sun; therefore, my skin is pasty white.
What can be more beautiful than a bright, shiny Christmas tree?
My red beard makes me resemble Mitch from Modern Family.
It’s perfect to wake on Christmas to a gently falling snow.
Some folks whistle by inhaling, but when I whistle, I blow.
Christmas is the time of year to cherish those we love the most.
In addition to oatmeal, for breakfast, I enjoy wheat toast.
It’s my wish for you this Christmas to have all you can dream of.
Most importantly, of course, I simply wish you lots of love.
Although the belly is my own,
It is slightly overblown.
I puffed it out and held my breath,
So you would laugh yourself to death.
Ode to the New Year
As is the case with every year, it went by way too fast.
Now I sit here pondering the 12 months that just passed.
My powers of recall are just not what they used to be.
Excuse me for a moment; I must pause to go wee wee.
I’m back, and I feel quite refreshed after that bathroom break.
You know what I could go for now, a piece of carrot cake.
Of all the types of cakes there are, I like carrot the best.
Don’t ask me why, ‘cause carrots in the raw, I quite detest.
I like to juice the carrots though, and add some apples too.
A daily dose of that can really soften up one’s poo.
It’s better to be regular than plugged up, don’t ya know.
That’s why I try avoiding cheese, although I love it so.
Yes indeed, this year flew by in the blink of an eye.
We’re all a whole year older now, which makes me want to cry.
In summary, what is the one conclusion we can make?
Carrots are delicious in the form of juice or cake.
Check me out with Mr. C!
He was quite a sight to see
What do you suppose will be
Placed by him beneath my tree?
Ode to Santa Claus
As the special day draws near, I take a moment’s pause.
Who exactly is this man we know as Santa Claus?
He has a beard of snowy white and nose of cherry red,
And what a funny looking hat he wears upon his head!
If I did not know better, I would say he’s quite deranged.
I’m thinkin’ in the brain department, Santa got shortchanged.
Who on earth in their right mind would do what Santa does?
Harder still to understand, he does it just because.
Santa puts up with the elves, and with the reindeer farts.
Then each Christmas Eve, from Mrs. Claus, he sadly parts.
He’s morbidly obese, you know, but still, he plays the game,
Inhaling milk and cookies so the children know he came.
He lugs a bag that holds a toy for each and every child.
To say his back is out of whack is putting it quite mild.
Although we may not get it, there is one thing that I know…
This world would be much drearier without his, “Ho, ho, ho!”
Although you may not believe me
This card has not been photoshopped.
When I jumped way up in the air
The shot was snapped before I dropped.
Ode to Jumping
It’s better to jump in the air, than stay upon the ground.
The view is sweeter from up there as your eyes gaze around.
Most anyone can learn to jump. It can be done with ease.
For goodness sake though, when you land, be sure to bend your knees.
A variation of the jump is skipping, don’t ya know.
Just walk and jump in fluid motion everywhere you go.
But let’s get back to jumping now, ‘cause it is mighty keen.
The best enhancement to jumping must be the trampoline.
The trampoline allows for jumping higher than before,
And with its help a flip or twirl isn’t such a chore.
There is one form of jumping I dislike for what it lacks.
I find no joy in jumping when I’m doing jumping jacks.
Bungee jumping is a feat that some folks find appalling.
It isn’t so much jumping; it seems much more like falling.
Jumping in its many forms should be appreciated.
Kris Kross will make ya jump, jump, but that makes me sound dated.
I sat in softly falling snow,
Reflecting on the year gone by,
And then a thought occurred to me.
“Oh dear, I kinda have to pee.
Do these tights have a built-in fly?”
Ode to Pause & Reflection
Amid the hustle bustle of this busy time of year,
It often seems the need to rush quite drains us of our cheer.
In an effort to appreciate this magic season,
I suggest a thoughtful pause and a return to reason.
Instead of fighting other shoppers for the perfect toy,
Kidnap a squirrel from a tree and give that to your boy.
Don’t be kitchen bound all day ‘cause you think you’re supposed ta
Have the in-laws take your car and drive to Ponderosa.
Must every holiday parade have you there in the crowd?
Why not stay in, call up a friend; then read to them aloud.
Instead of driving to the mall, try Santa on the phone.
Just dial up a friendly senior at the nursing home.
Why bother with the needles and the mess of a real tree?
Frank Costanza’s Festivus pole is good enough for me.
So don’t stress out. Please slow things down. Enjoy the holidays.
Just don’t wake up on New Year’s Day within a foggy haze.
Some folks think that less is more,
And too much is just tacky.
I however, disagree.
So won’t you come along with me,
And let’s get freakin’ wacky!
Ode to Overindulgence
There’s something to be said for reigning in and holding back.
But I propose, instead, we all just cut ourselves some slack.
Why restrain yourself from what you really want to do?
Regret for not attempting it will come back to haunt you.
It’s time to dig down deep and step it up, for heaven’s sake.
Don’t just stop at one piece, you can eat the whole damn cake!
Is there a pair of pretty shoes you noticed at the store?
Instead of buying one pair, why not take home three or four?
If you think one glass of your favorite brew will be enough,
You’re wrong, but drinking four or five will make you extra tough.
Your spouse and you may think that one or two kids is just fine.
Why not pop out enough to make your own offensive line?
So on this holiday you can sit back and be uptight,
Or vomit Christmas spirit with more gifts and bows and lights!
Yes, everything in moderation makes a lot of sense,
But so does cutting loose at times and sparing no expense.
Sometimes opening a gift
Can leave you in despair.
It’s no Red Ryder BB gun.
I hope Aunt Clara’s having fun,
‘Cause I’m a pink nightmare.
Ode to Faking It
At certain times throughout our lives, our gut reaction shows.
Especially at moments when the situation blows.
Although your shrink will tell you it’s not good to hold it in,
To spare another’s feelings, you must sometimes fake a grin.
Perhaps your child shows a dreadful picture she has drawn,
And all your energy is spent just stifling a yawn.
In an effort to avoid her crocodile tears,
You must confess the drawing is the best you’ve seen in years.
What if your spouse asks, “Hey, don’t you admire my physique?”
And truthfully, you know that he is really rather weak.
Instead of saying, “Honey, you had better hit the gym”
You smack him on the ass and say those glutes look good on him.
So as the holidays draw near, please learn this lesson well,
And if your gut reaction is, “Oh screw me! What the hell?”
Instead, just take a moment’s pause, then turn your head and say,
“Thanks darling. It’s the perfect gift. I’ll wear it every day!”
Please forgive the language.
I don’t mean to offend you.
It’s the holidays already,
So I dressed as Cousin Eddie,
And my RV’s full of poo.
Ode to Poo
It comes in different shapes and sizes. Every one’s unique.
To see what your turd looks like, just stand up and take a peek.
It’s often brown in color, though not always, heaven knows.
For mine turns black as midnight after eating Oreos.
It can smell of rotten eggs, or of a deceased opossum,
But squirt Lysol in the air, and you’ll smell cherry blossom.
With luck, it slides out easily, but it might take a push.
Beware, ‘cause pushing can result with hemorrhoids in your tush.
It sometimes sneaks into your pants along with a loose fart,
And then you’re saddled with the job of cleaning up that shart.
As babies, we could lay a brick without a single care.
Our diapers caught it all, and Mom or Dad would soon be there.
But as adults, the process isn’t nearly that much fun.
If we don’t wipe it well enough, our undies get a run.
I know this talk is impolite. The subject is taboo.
But maybe we should lighten up and celebrate our poo!
The season is upon us,
With its music so melodic.
What better way to celebrate
Than with a nod to my home state?
This year, I’m going gothic.
Ode to Goths
I traveled to the house that was made famous by Grant Wood,
And there, in elf attire, fork in hand, I proudly stood.
It’s plain to see, the Gothic House is pretty as can be,
And it inspired thoughts of gothic-ness to come to me.
Folks spruce it up each season, making things so bright and gay,
But goths choose to express themselves in quite another way.
It isn’t brightly colored clothes that they throw on their back.
Instead, they stick to just one tone, and dress themselves in black.
Sometimes, underneath their eyes, they will apply mascara.
Their smoky gaze can pierce your soul if you lock eyes. I dare ya!
Ha, ha, I joke. That is not true. The goths are just like us.
Except for their complete and utter lack of cheerfulness.
I should not jest, this is the season of eternal hope,
And poking fun at goths makes me look like a silly dope.
So in your travels, near and far, should you cross a goth’s path,
Offer them a dirty joke, and try to get a laugh.
Are you as happy, as am I?
This season really rocks!
So, this year, as I wish you well,
I’ll take a cue from SNL.
It’s my d*** in a box.
Ode to Boxes
A box is quite a common thing, but it can hold such joy.
This time of year, kids open it to find a favorite toy.
A tiny box holding a ring can make a person’s day.
It means a life of wedded bliss is not too far away.
Sometimes a box surprises you when opening the lid.
Jack-in-the-box can traumatize an unsuspecting kid.
A box can house a rodent that you want to relocate.
Just poke enough holes in the lid so it won’t suffocate.
A box of chocolates holds a treat we quite enjoy, and yet,
As Forrest Gump learned from his mom, you don’t know what you’ll get.
Come February, that sweet treat comes in a heart-shaped box.
Present one to your sweetheart, and you’ll score big, you sly fox!
To think outside the box is viewed as quite a skill to tout.
But mimes get stuck in boxes, and they can’t think their way out.
No matter what is in each box you may receive this season,
Rejoice, ‘cause someone special gave it to you for a reason.
On these, bleak, lifeless, winter days,
You may daydream of summer.
To hell with it, let’s hit the links!
Gas up the cart and chill the drinks!
Too cold you think? Oh, bummer.
Ode to Golf
While I no longer do, I used to play golf as a kid.
It’s one of few athletic undertakings that I did.
Though how athletic should we call this game of golf we play?
You walk (or drive) the course and enjoy beer along the way.
Just swing a club and hit a ball into a tiny hole,
And do it 18 times per round. That’s the entire goal.
Take no more strokes than necessary to stay under par.
If not, you’ll get a bogey. Golf terms sure do sound bizarre.
Do you recall the movie that paid homage to the game?
It was an 80’s classic, and Caddyshack is its name.
Groundskeeper Carl prowled the course to trap his nemesis.
But the gopher proved too crafty. Poor Carl always missed.
Some years ago, I saw a pro event with the real goods.
Among the pros attending was the greatest, Tiger Woods.
I like Tiger and Rory, but my fave is Adam Scott.
He’s one hell of a golfer, and he’s also very hot.
So, if you are a golfer, good luck to you come this spring.
If not, then best of luck with whatever makes your bell ring.
It’s that time of year again.
Holidays are drawing near.
Let’s indulge and celebrate.
Overtop your dinner plate.
We’ll live like kings this year!
Ode to Kings
Mufasa taught his son, Simba to act like a king oughta.
But Pumbaa and Timon believed in Hakuna Matata.
So they advised no worries for the rest of Simba’s days.
Yet Simba realized better and he changed his foolish ways.
The King and I is timeless. It stars Anna and the King.
But this king is quite grumpy and acts like a ding-a-ling.
Though Anna tries her best to teach and has mad dancing skills,
She can’t prevent the king’s dirt nap when he falls deathly ill.
King Charles was a prince for over 74 years.
Then Queen Elizabeth passed on and left us all in tears.
Now Charles is the king and I guess we’re OK with that.
Yet we still miss Elizabeth ‘cause Charles feels quite flat.
The king of horror, Stephen King, writes lots of scary books.
He tackles unique subjects with suspense that really cooks.
Cujo, Christine, and Carrie were possessed by something odd.
Eventually, their downfall gave us reason to applaud.
There’s B.B. King and Carole King, and there’s Burger King too.
But no amount of kingly charm compares at all to you. 😉