Hyperbole

For the Word Hyperbole,
seems It’s used Too much to Me,
by the Talking Heads I see,
expounding Forth on my TV.

Makes me Pull my Webster Book,
Find the Definition look,
Stumped me with a Wording Hook,
Sitting in my Inglenook.

As I play at Surfing Station,
I am feeling the Sensation,
You might think my Self Gyration,
Nothing but Exaggeration?

Mechanically Challenged

My “Guy Genes” got lost Somewhere,
questions if I have a Pair?
Was not One to Work on Cars,
engines Seemed like Built on Mars.

DAD – “The Home Improvement Don,”
could have Built the Parthenon.
On my Hide he’d Liked to Wail,
could Not pound Down a Straight Nail.

Cardboard Kitchen – up All Night,
if saw Santa – I would Bite!
Sink Disposal – that went Well,
to Bail me Out was Quite the Bill.

Small things Broken stay that Way,
’less with Duct Tape they will Stay.
Those who think That may Sound Hot,
A MacGyver I am not.

So I live Like half a Man,
get Redemption where I Can.
Every morning in My Home,
Zip up Trousers on MY OWN!

No Way I Could Shave My Legs

No Way I Could Shave My Legs,
how To do it Question Begs.
Fall in Shower – Drown in Tub,
just My starting Problems Bub.

Blood Transfusion to Begin,
from The first Nick in my Shin.
As I move Up to my Knee,
Plastic Surgeons call with Glee.

When come Close to Private Parts,
Super Shrinkage off the Charts.
If get This far Have to Say,
Other Leg might Run Away.

The Line

In a Bank or in a Store,
Drive-thru lanes and even More.
Whatever Line when All is Done,
seem to Pick the Slowest One.

Is it Fate or Just poor Luck,
the Fastest Line I’m never Stuck.
Loser stamped For all to See,
he’ll Never win the Lottery.

At my Age so What’s the Hurry?
If I’m Stuck then What’s the Worry?
For Life’s course Around the Bend,
hope the Slow Line ‘til the End.

Dawn and Nell and Art

We are Unique in many Ways,
in Our own Internal Maze.
In a Car or On a Bus,
left Behind is Some of Us.

Enemies or maybe Friends,
Which is Which it all Depends,
Who we Meet along our Trek,
Peaceful Sail to Big Train Wreck.

Some will Come and Some will Go,
Names for Those you get to Know.
Heed the Trace when you Depart,
namely – Dawn and Nell and Art.

Subliminal Messages – Pure B.S.

Subject to Some real Proof,
Limited now To a Spoof.
Including me As in the Dark,
Always seems to Miss the Mark.

Read it’s ‘bout Perception Level,
This no Reason all should Revel.
Rhyme or In just simple Prose,
Please don’t Fall within it’s Throes.