Humorous Poems that I remember and Cherish...Batch 1

Remember When... Author Unknown A computer was something on TV From a science fiction show of note. A window was something you hated to clean, And ram was the cousin of a goat Meg was the name of my girlfriend. A gig was a job for the night. Now they all mean different things, And that really mega bytes. An application was for employment. A program was a TV show. A cursor used profanity. A keyboard was a piano. Memory was something that you lost with age. A CD was a bank account. And if you had a three-inch floppy, You hoped nobody found out. Compress was something you did to the garbage, Not something you did to a file. And if you unzipped anything in public, You'd be in jail for a while. Log on was adding wood to the fire. Hard drive was a long trip on the road. A mouse pad was where a mouse lived. And a backup happened to your commode. Cut, you did with a pocket knife. Paste, you did with glue. A web was a spider's home. And a virus was the flu. I guess I'll stick to my pad and paper And the memory in my head. I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash, But when it happens they wish they were dead. Stunned Surprise Author Unknown I dreamed death came to me one night, and Heaven's gates flew open wide. With kindly grace, St. Peter came and ushered me inside. There, to my astonishment, were friends I had known on Earth. Some I had labeled as unfit and some of little worth. Indignant words flew to my lips; Words I could not set free. For every face showed stunned surprise -- No one expected ME! I Can't Remember
Author Unknown
Just a line to say I'm living that I'm not among the dead, Though I'm getting more forgetful and mixed up in my head I got used to my arthritis to my dentures I'm resigned, I can manage my bifocals but God, I miss my mind For sometimes I can't remember when I stand at the foot of the stairs, If I must go up for something or have I just come down from there? And before the fridge so often my poor mind is filled with doubt, Have I just put food away, or have I come to take some out? And there's a time when it is dark with my nightcap on my head, I don't know if I'm retiring, or just getting out of bed So, if it's my turn to write you there's no need for getting sore, I may think I have written and don't want to be a bore So, remember that I love you and wish that you were near, But now it's nearly mail time So I must say goodbye, dear There I stand beside the mail box with a face so very red, Instead of mailing you my letter I opened it instead Job Responsibility by Charles Osgood There was a most important job that needed to be done, And no reason not to do it, there was absolutely none. But in vital matters such as this, the thing you have to ask Is who exactly will it be who'll carry out the task? Anybody could have told you that everybody knew That this was something somebody would surely have to do. Nobody was unwilling; anybody had the ability. But nobody believed that it was their responsibility. It seemed to be a job that anybody could have done, If anybody thought he was supposed to be the one. But since everybody recognised that anybody could, Everybody took for granted that somebody would. But nobody told anybody that we are aware of, That he would be in charge of seeing it was taken care of. And nobody took it on himself to follow through, And do what everybody thought that somebody would do. When what everybody needed so did not get done at all, Everybody was complaining that somebody dropped the ball. Anybody then could see it was an awful crying shame, And everybody looked around for somebody to blame. Somebody should have done the job And Everybody should have, But in the end Nobody did What Anybody could have. When I'm An Old Lady by Joanne Bailey Baxter When I'm an old lady, I'll live with each kid, And bring so much happiness just as they did. I want to pay back all the joy they've provided. Returning each deed! Oh, they'll be so excited! (When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...) I'll write on the walls with reds, whites, and blues, And bounce on the furniture.....wearing my shoes. I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out. I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, how they'll shout! (When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...) When they're on the phone and just out of reach, I'll get into things like sugar and bleach. Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head, And when that is done, I'll hide under the bed. (When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...) When they cook dinner and call me to eat, I'll not eat my green beans or salad or meat. I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table, And when they get angry...I'll run....if I'm able! (When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...) I'll sit close to the TV., through the channels I'll click I'll cross both eyes just to see if they stick. I'll take off my socks and throw one away, And play in the mud 'til the end of the day! (When I'm an old lady and live with my kids...) And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh, I'll thank God in prayer and then close my eyes. My kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping, And say with a groan, "She's so sweet when she's sleeping!" Who Is She? by Virginia Gronow Her eyes are like diamonds that are shiny and bright Her hair is so soft and black as the night Her legs are long and her body is slender When you hold her close she is warm and tender Hiding amongst the shadows so tall Looking much closer she's not there at all Always in trouble with her curious way She stays out all night and sleeps in all day Creeps into your room and sits up on your bed Gives gentle kisses on your nose and your head Always expects you to open the door There isn't a sound as she walks on the floor She will not come over when you call Walks straight past as if you're not there at all If you want to work she wants to play Doesn't care if you forget her birthday Is she your wife or is she your lover Is she a friend or is she your mother She is none of those things I can tell you that This beautiful creature is only the cat The Egotist by Gene Sanders I don't know why my favorite color is green Or why I'm so pleasant when I could be so mean I don't know why my favorite number is five Or why I like the classics and don't care for jive I don't know why my favorite season is fall-- Could be the cool nights, brilliant colors and all I'm not at all sure why I like the things I do But it's probably because I'm me and not you! Silent Letters by Geoff Weilert Maybe, it’s just me But it sound quite absurd To have letters in words That are seen but not heard. I have this idea Which can’t be dispelled, That those aberrant words Someone long ago misspelled. These misspelled words Before anyone could sight’em Throughout all the years Were repeated ad infinitum. So words now have letters, That seem quite out of place And serve no other purpose Than taking up space. The silent letters Where ere they occurred I now gather up To make the first silent word. So watch real closely The reason’s because, I might be using that word Whenever I pause. pent Youth Author Unknown How do I know my youth has been spent: Because my get-up-and-go, got up and went But in spite of all that, I'm able to grin When I think where my get-up-and-go has been Old age is golden, I've heard it said, But sometimes I wonder as I go to bed My ears are in a drawer, my teeth in a cup, My eyes on a table until I wake up When I was young my slippers were red I could kick my heels right over my head When I grew older my slippers were blue But I could still dance the whole night thru Now that I am old my slippers are black I walk to the corner and puff my way back The reason I know my youth is spent My get-up-and-go got up and went I get up each morning dust off my wits Pick up the paper and read the "orbits" If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed Dust If You Must Author Unknown Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better To paint a picture, or write a letter, Bake a cake, or plant a seed; Ponder the difference between want and need? Dust if you must, but there's not much time, With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb; Music to hear, and books to read; Friends to cherish, and life to lead. Dust if you must, but the world's out there With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair; A flutter of snow, a shower of rain, This day will not come around again. Dust if you must, but bear in mind, Old age will come and it's not kind. And when you go (and go you must) You, yourself, will make more dust.