
Fear
Bugaboo, bugbear
Who’s afraid?
I don’t care
Hurry, hurry
Run and hide
Worry, worry
Don’t go outside
All day long
Fret and flee
Won’t sing that song
Don’t bother me
by Richard W. Bray

Fear
Bugaboo, bugbear
Who’s afraid?
I don’t care
Hurry, hurry
Run and hide
Worry, worry
Don’t go outside
All day long
Fret and flee
Won’t sing that song
Don’t bother me
by Richard W. Bray

The Birdman
Walter Wendel Whitebrow, the Third
Is fully convinced that he is a bird
This, of course, makes him seem quite absurd
And none of his doctors believe he is cured
With wet worms washed by Wilma, his wife
Walter had the great grub of his life
He caused a major domestic strife
By refusing to cut them up with a knife
Instead, he slurped them down like spaghetti
And all the folks in Freaksville said he
Was quite insane when he grabbed a machete
And chopped up his chairs till they looked like confetti
He gathered all the string he could find
Furiously, he started to bind
Till half his possessions were tightly twined
He couldn’t comprehend why his family would mind
Every time he would visit a house
Walter took something away in his mouth
He dove off the porch while hunting a mouse
As winter approached he began to head south
Today you can seem him up in the sky
For somehow he taught himself how to fly
Whenever a gaggle of geese passes by
Poor Wilma looks up and asks herself, “Why?”
by Richard W. Bray

Peripatetic Paul
Peripatetic Paul went to the mall
He went to the beach and the zoo
He went near and far in his very own car
Still he found nothing to do
by Richard W. Bray

Considered alone they’re simply two foots
But together they make up my feet
They endure wherever I take them
This pair is hard to beat
Daily I pound them with pressure
And each time I walk down the street
The entire weight of my body
Comes crashing down on my feet
Cruelly I encase them
In sandals or stockings and shoes
At home I keep them in slippers
Protecting from fixtures that bruise
I wasn’t designed to walk upright
But you won’t see me swinging in trees
I’m resisting all primeval yearnings
To return to the salty old seas
Supporting my frame for a lifetime
They’re loyal and faithful and strong
Through corns and fungus and bunions
My friends keeps moving along
I’m planning on keeping my tootsies
I’ll treat them with kindness and care
Publicly now I salute them
This most deserving pair
by Richard W. Bray

What’s a Guy to Do?
I took Tammy’s twinkie while she was at a play
Then I made a stinky and discreetly walked away
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them” is what I like to say
Besides, I’ll make it up to them on some future day
I switched Scotty’s toothpaste with some super glue
Though he’s in the hospital, he has a lovely view
If some folks cannot take a joke, what’s a guy to do?
I’m not about to miss such fun just so others won’t be blue
Alex likes to brag about the lunches his mom makes
So I replaced his lunch bag with one full of snakes
You might think that I am mean, but I say, “Them’s the breaks.”
He should learn to be more careful about which bag he takes
Walter wrote a paper that my teacher gave an “A”
Then I filled his desk with dog doo when he went out to play
We all got extra recess so it was a perfect day
It’s really all his fault, you know, for showing off that way
I hate to brag about my brilliance, but it’s simply true
I’ve never gotten caught for all the things I do
People make me angry, so what’s a guy to do?
It’s not my fault that they’re all liars and mean and stupid, too
by Richard W. Bray

Friendly Frank
Friendly Frank went to the bank
And took out all his money
He gave it away, all in one day
And his wife didn’t think it was funny
He gave some to Becky and more to Steve
And a greater amount to Hank
And some to the teller, and more to the guard
Who worked in that neighborhood bank
“Thank you” he said, “for watching my fortune
When I wasn’t even around
The least I can do is gladly tip you
For keeping it safe and sound”
Frank went on a spree as he happily
Handed out millions of dollars
He felt such glee as he giddily
Made people do yelps and hollers
But when he was done he ran out of fun
And the crowd just withered away
All his new chums decided to run
Finding new places to play
Today Frank lives in an old brown shack
Down at the far end of town
His only friend is a hound named Huck
Nobody else is around
by Richard W. Bray

Maybe
Maybe I will clean the house
Maybe I will make my bed
Maybe I will write a book
Maybe I will bake some bread
Maybe I will lie around
Maybe I will watch tv
Maybe I’ll go back to bed
Maybe I’ll just let things be
Maybe I will paint the house
Maybe I will do my chores
Maybe I’ll take out the trash
Maybe I will scrub the floor
Maybe I will eat some cake
Maybe I will smell some flowers
Maybe I will play some tunes
Maybe I will dream for hours
Time is all we have to spend
We never get it back
I’m ready for this poem to end
Because I’m late to take my nap
by Richard W. Bray

I Hate
I hate you cuz the sky is blue
Why can’t you make it green?
Everything you say and do
Is just to make me mean
I hate it when you wear those pants
It makes me feel so fat
Always thinking of yourself
I’ve had enough of that
I hate the way you buy new things
When I am out of money
Don’t you know what pain you bring?
I’ll bet you think it’s funny
I hate to see your smiling face
When you are feeling glad
It’s obvious that you don’t care
For people who are sad
I hate you when you laugh out loud
At folks who are not funny
We know that you are insincere
You just want their money
I hate it when you call your friends
You’re always on the phone
If I had phony friends like you
I’d rather be alone
I hate you morning, noon, and night
You think that you’re so cool
History will prove me right
You’re just a silly fool
by Richard W. Bray

My Funny Farm
My monkey makes my mother mad
He also aggravates my dad
He took his car the other day
And drove it to the Hudson Bay
My kitty cat is kooky too
He likes to strut down to the zoo
And tell the tigers to all stand back
If they don’t want to get attacked
I have a hamster named Houdini
And though he is rather teeny
He’ll quickly pick a thousand locks
You could not hold him in Fort Knox
My kangaroo’s a real joker
Up all night playing poker
His friends come to destroy the house
I think I shoulda’ got a mouse
I got a hippo last July
He really is one swell guy
Everything he does is super
I got a giant pooper scooper
Living on this funny farm
I know my pets don’t mean no harm
But both my parents moved away
And no one wants to come and play
by Richard W. Bray
Myrtle Myers
Myrtle Myers bought some pliers
At the hardware store
She took them home and all alone
She broke down the door
The next day she found a way
To make the toilet flood
She took a wrench from daddy’s bench
And made a great big thud
Unperturbed, her mother purred
“Well, girls they will be girls
All this rage is just a stage
She has such darling curls”
Then Myrtle took an evil look
At her mother’s dress
It made her think and with some ink
She made a lovely mess
Yet with rage unassauged
She shaved her sister’s head
With kerosene and gasoline
She burned her brother’s bed
Undistressed, her father guessed
“It’s just a child at play
They’re just jealous, those who tell us
To have her put away”
Her parents planned a party grand
Just to celebrate
Her twelfth birthday, and by the way
Myrtle showed up late
No girls nor boys bearing toys
Decided to attend
Although assured the girl was cured
They feared their lives might end
As her family huddled, scared and befuddled
By her piercing stare
Myrtle growled and then she howled
“I publicly declare
“This can’t be true! What did you do
To make them stay away?
You’ll all be blue and live to rue
This catastrophic day!”
Myrtle made a bomb that day
Intending to destroy
Her own home town and miles around
And every girl and boy
But in her hurry, she forgot to scurry
Away from her invention
She’s gone away, I’m sad to say
Results of ill intention
Her parents pleaded all she needed
Was love and understanding
And though it’s true that we all do
Life is more demanding
It takes affection to give direction
And most kids do not mind
Those restrictions and prohibitions
Which seem to some unkind
by Richard W. Bray