Presidentially bad poetry

Being an engineer and business graduate, poetry might not seem my thing…but of course I’m as good at writing verse as anyone, except maybe Shakespeare, and Milton and Dickinson and a couple of other guys and gals from around the world.

The concept for my poetry book is simple.  The front cover is the closed door of a bathroom – or a toilet to be more specific – with a sign posted that says “Do not Disturb. Poet at work.”

This is the poem for the back cover:

Back Cover

Some say my poetry’s awful.

Some say my poetry stinks.

Some say my rhyming’s abominable

fit only for loonies and kinks.

____

Well it’s true.

My poetry’s dreadful

but really I don’t give a damn.

It brightens my evenings of leisure

as I sit, at my ease, on the can.

_____

To be read out loud in a profound yet thin and reedy voice.

More to follow!

God in a Limerick

Said the Lord, as he looked at the night,

“This is boring, I think that I might

let div D=rho,

yes, I do like it so

and divB will remain out of sight”

_______

Well, this seemed to be going all right

so the Lord, who was testing his might,

said “de/dt=CurlH and (with glee) the reverse!”

And behold, there was light.

_______

Over Alps

A giant’s hand swept up barren rock.
A field of stones.
No farmer’s hand.
Sterile ice is not dung.

To pick and chose one rock from the next.

From here the storm blinks some lights
Just a wingtip further off
But my knees concern me more.

____________

Oh, all rights are reserved and copyright is asserted.  Feel free to link to this page, but no copying.  The one with Maxwell’s equations is my brother’s, and he reserves all rights too.

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