Monday, June 25, 2012

25 Greatest TV Shows of All Time for Kids - Parenting.com


Sometimes it takes a village to raise a child, often the television plays that important role...





MY FULL PIGGYBANK:


50 Lincolns, in you go

a nickel, clink.

10 dimes, plink, plink, plink.

6 quarters, ching, ching.

20 Georges, come on George

3 five dollar bills, Wow I’m rich

1 ten dollar bill, Wish I had two more

2 Jacksons, Good president

4 Franklins, Hey, he wasn’t a president

1 Hamilton, Ahh, my favorite

Wow,

Daddy sure had a lot of money in his wallet!















WHY A DIVORCE:


Parents are like countries

always fighting and splitting apart



They forget words, emotions, and commitments

that they made to one another



They only remember the hate, the bad

and the hurt that they did unto each other



Fortunately I’m not a parent

so why do I feel the pain.











MOMMIES:



Aren’t Mummies great?

Everyone should have at least one.


















I CAN’T WAIT TO GROW UP:


When I grow up

I want to be big



as tall as a tree

and green as a twig



as strong as a baboon

and fat like the man on the moon



I want to grow and grow

fatter and fatter

taller and taller

stronger and stronger

just like Daddy



On second thought,

I don’t want to grow up

to look like Daddy.









THE DIRTY ROTTEN DIAPER:


Oh my can it be

Time again to change me

They run for cover and plug their nose

For fear of my dirty smelly toes

















PUBERTY:



I forgot you

Yes I did

And I don’t know why

Nor do I want to

Though you have been erased from my mind

That I feel sure

I just can’t remember when it occurred

It happened not over night

This I am somewhat certain

But, in either case,

You are forgotten

And if by some fluke

I start to remember

I’ll remind myself to forget you again.









TEETHING PAINS:


Wango tango

it sure hurts



Please don’t give me Exlax

it gives me the squirts



The other end, if you don’t mind

It’s in my mouth, not in my behind



Changing my diaper just won’t do

I’ve got gums, but I can’t chew



Give me a pacifier,

Or a napkin,

Or even  a shot of rum

and for God’s sake,

remove that thermometer from my bum!







GRANDMA:


My daddy says my Granny

Controls my mommy

And my mommy says his granddaddy

Controls him

I don’t care who controls who

I love them all











THE CHERRY MUD PUDDING CAKE:


Take 5 cups of mud

and 6 tablespoons of flour

toss it in the oven and turn on the power



Take 7 cherries and two frog legs

add 1 can of lard

and stir together till it’s nice and hard



Next comes the jelly and fish eggs

this gives it the consistency and the flavor

It melts in your mouth

and it is something to savor







LOOK MOM, PICASSO:


Till this day I will never understand

why mother took the whip to my little hand.

I did what she said

and showed my skill.

All on the wall, not a spill

First black and then some red

rolled it

mixed it

to create the head.

Picasso would have been ever so proud,

not too abstract and not to loud.

Next came the blue and white

and the orange, perhaps a bit too gaudy,

mixed it together to form the body.



At this stage I was interrupted.

My career as an artist abruptly cut short

by a whip or a stick of some sort.

A quick rap on my knuckles

delivered her message.

And I dropped

the brush

to later pick up the pen

and now write stores of life at age ten.

















LADY BUG:


Ladybug, ladybug

all fickle in the head

open your eyes before you’re dead.



Seems a shoe

clouds your domain

and the souls of many

left its stain



Splat…Splotch.

Now you are dead

At last

 it is I who am fickle in the head











THE STORY TELLER:


Tell me a story blind man for you are the Storyteller.

Tell me about the darkness

and how it sheltered you in its womb,

and pitied by all.

Tell me of the water.

What did you see?

Greed in the hands of power.

A glance the other way.

Did it hurt knowing the truth?

Perhaps that is why you are blind.

Tell me of the skies,

the beautiful charcoaled sunsets,

the hazy blanket of smog and the cold damp afternoons.

Were the toxins gentle on the animals?

Were you also blind to this?

From the holes of useless bile did remorse crave to see

that which I was forced to remember.

How can the Storyteller describe

the blistering flesh burnt onto the skulls.

The billions.

The stench.

The young spitting into my face as I ravaged their bodies.

Tell me.

Please tell me, Storyteller!



At your bedside I did read to you

whispered the tired old man.

Not a prouder father one could find.

Though blind to images of your world,

I saw with my hands and loved with my ears.

I tell you in honesty and in pain,

wept the old Storyteller.

What I did I did for you.

And to wear the crown of thorns

I would do all over again.

What I did I did from love,

I did for you.


















FATHER AND SON:


To create a life, that I have done

and to bury a man who called me his son.

To have lived in fear and seen man split atoms

and to have sailed upon the great Mississippi

and almost drown in seven fathoms.



To leave my flesh and see apparitions

dance upon the shrine

and to know of dead bodies

Floating down the Rhine.



To have kissed the girls in numerous lands

and to some I loved, I did leave

deep wounds in their hands.



To have walked with Plato and trod on teak

that floated upon the Caspian Sea.

And to have touched the bark

and seen the life taken from the trees.



To have flown in the air in machines that rust

and to have turned green pastures into bowls of dust.

To lie to my wife and cheat in bed

and he who took vengeance and bore me

my first that was dead.



To this and more I regret as a man

for I never hugged my father

and I never held my son’s hand.
















THE GOOD FATHER:


I’ve heard stories from those who knew him best

They spoke of him as the silent hero

A man of stature

A man of inner strength and pride



With love and tenderness he did rear me

A single parent widowed by painful fate

A drunk driver played the grim reaper

And stole a soul before its time.



Yet, not a word did he mention of his loss

Not an open bed did he take for comfort

Nor the hands of pity did he accept

Though thrown into his new responsibilities

He took to them as if it were fate.



And complaints, I had none

He frolicked in my youth

And shared in my pain

He taught me in a world of hate

That in darkness there is strength

That goodness hides behind fear

And to understand this emotion,

One must see the child in the most evil

And befriend his pain.



All this time, not a tear did he drop

Not the breath of remorse reached my ears

I could not and did not see his pain

For he showed none.

If his eyes were two way mirrors,

They reflected nothing but content

And pain was but a brick wall on the other side

With no means of escape or relief.



And then one night he took his life.

With a click of the trigger a silent hero

Kissed the wings of immortality forever.

And, for the first time I realized

That is wall of pain was the only

Legacy passed onto me.

And, as fate would have it,

I built it twice as high for my wife and kid.









LIVER AT NINE:



A clank of the dinner bell sealed my fate

As evil stepmother dumped a slab of liver upon my plate

Fried 5 hours pass its time

In the pan at 4:00 and out at nine



I looked in horror and in distain

This glob of glitch should be flushed down the drain.

No, not the drain, that would not do

It would clog the pipes as quick as crazy glue.



And to my surprise I began to believe

This burnt slab of snot actually laughed at me.

It jerked and twitched and sang an evil ballad

As it cowered for shelter beneath my dinner salad.



This was a shock, I must declare

But what came next cannot compare.

The limas and the beets out of the blue

Leap frogged the asparagus and crashed into the tomato stew.



Without remorse and to no debate

I opened my napkin and cleared my plate.

Unfortunately for me, my luck ran short

Evil stepmother growled and gave a bellowing snort.



“I see you crave liver as do I”

“And for desert, I cooked your favorite…Brussel Sprout Pie!”























SKELETONS IN MY CLOSET:



What’s all this hush

about bones and secrets?



None in my closet

that’s for sure



I would know

I hide in there



And if I see

a bony cadaver



Out he goes

into the cold world



No secretes in my closet,

that’s for sure!









BURNING LETTERS IN THE SKY:



Kiss my puppy love notes goodbye

Up, up to the sky

Flames dance into the night

Carrying words, thoughts out of sight.

Goodbye puppy love….

Hello true love.













THE FIRST KISS:



I kissed Sally today

I know not why

Perhaps with this kiss I just might die

It was wet and yet dry

It was just a peck goodbye!

Perhaps that is why she started to cry?











BATH TIME:



Splish splash

I don’t want a bath.



Swoosh swamp

I don’t need a bath



Dirty is good

Clean is bad



Splash splish

I’m not a silly fish!


























DOES MY FATHER SNORE?



My mother said it once

And she’ll say it no more



“Your Dad does not snore”



a puff and a hoot

perhaps an occasional toot



“But your father does not snore”



sometimes at night a quibble in the dark

a moan from under the pillow deep from the heart

soft rumbles echo from his plump tummy

gas and air mix and make it sound funny,



“But no, thank God, you Dad does not snore”













THE WOOGLE DOOGLE MONSTER:



He’s mean and crude

Not my most favorite dude.



His teeth are yellow and green with slime

He walks like an ape

And is never on time



His arms are big and hairy

And at first glance, rather scary.



With a snort of is snoot

And a twitch of his chin

He passes gas at the drop of a pin



He’s kind of crude and a bit mean

Awfully fat and definitely not clean



But as monsters go

I must say

My Woogle Doogle Monster is a OK.









TO GRAMPS:



To my oldest and best friend

a friend in need is there till the end

I’ll stand by your side and touch your hand

buy you flowers and dream of you in a distant land.



And when I get old and gray

by your grave I will pass away



When I wake and get judged by the Man

I hope you will stand by me and hold my hand.

For a true friend is there in the beginning

In the middle, and in the end.













PAIN IN THE BUTT:



Ooooh what is that pain?

It starts in my back

And spreads throughout my little frame.



I yell, plead, and cry

Stop, stop, before I die!!



They may be smarter, but next time they’ll look

Dead pop hurt his hand spanking my book.



In my pants it will stay

It should come in handy for another naughty day!!












PASS THE SALT:



Salt my fries and my fish

Add more…

Add more to this dish.

A dash here

A pinch there.

Fill the plate

I do not care.

Open wide down the trap

Here comes that tasty sodium crap.















A PEANUT BUTTER FROG SANDWICH:



Froggy, froggy, you look so glum

With crunchy peanut butter on your bum



Hidden inside two pieces of bread

Grape jelly dripping down your head



Not so good, not so fun

Quick, jump out before you’re done!!















DOING TIME AT THE ZOO:



I sit in my cage

and eat raw flesh from metallic bowls

twice a day

I return to the open holes.



You pass the meat

and expect me to be happy

caged in an iron coffin

yet convicted of no crime

You pass my cage

as I do the time.



He throws me a peanut

She tosses me a candy bar

It waves and taunts me

shouts and vents

disrespects  my existence

and expects me to be content.



We are the one who watch you go by

We are the ones who wait to die

We are the ones who hate you so

We are the ones who truly know

that you are the beast

trapped in your own mortality

begging forgiveness from some soiled priest.



They come in droves

They drive their cars

They walk by our cages

Throwing us pieces of genetically altered food

and throwing our minds into horrific rages.



Who is the animal

that traps my kind

Slaves to your world

 filled with hate

filled with utter fear

passing my prison but shedding not a  tear

to walk the corridors of iron that rust

and show sympathy and empathy,

Ironic gestures of trust!



You enlightened creature

who fear my kind instinct

It is you who have been fleeced

It is you who are the true beast.


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