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Craig Munn Poem
I set me sails,
And head out to sea,
A pirates life this shall be.
A crew to build of pirates lad,
Ones that look awfully mad.
We rob them ships,
And look for gold,
Centuries of sailing,
But none look old.
With a sword in one hand,
A gun in my right,
If and when i catch you,
You'll walk the plank tonight.
Alligators swimming,
And sharks are below,
So when you jump in,
It will be your time to go.
Brave you are thinking,
But scared you shall be,
The last person you'll see standing,
shall and will be me.
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2015
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Craig Munn Poem
Boogers in the burgers,
Flies upon the wall.
Pee in the pickles,
Curtailed cheese to top it all.
Old and moldy lettuce,
Yucky tomatoes too.
I wont say whats in the french fries,
But if you only knew!
Blood is in the ketchup,
Acids in the drinks,
I'm stating to regret eating here,
Cause man this really stinks.
The chickens alive and kicking,
Yet cooking on the grill.
I really have to admit,
This is worse then working in the mill.
There's a skunk in the bathroom,
Underwear on the roof.
The cops are over there arresting,
Some crazy looking goof!
How anyone could eat here i just dont know,
But this is my last time coming,
I think i aught to go!!!
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2015
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Craig Munn Poem
The cow was awful mad,
For the farmer forgot her lad.
So she got out of her stall,
And turned the farmer into a ball,
And played soccer with granddad!!!!!!!!
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2018
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Craig Munn Poem
Wrestling has been around for ages,
Remember the Romans with there cages.
Ever since then it has gotten more violent.
Seldom does the crowd grow silent.
They hit each other with steel chairs and tables,
Leaping off ladders and walking on cables.
Injuries come quite often.
Not to mention their bodies are softened.
Going to see them live is really cool, And its all to see them hard hitting fools.
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2015
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Craig Munn Poem
No snow this year oh where could it be,
It’s been raining and hailing no white for the tree.
The grass is turning green,
The flowers are growing,
It’s almost Christmas and still it’s not snowing.
The birds are chirping and flying about,
The kids are going to school no cancellations they shout.
The water is warm,
The temperature is eighty,
Its Christmas eve and its hotter than hatties.
Santa is out flying around,
But he can’t land with snow on the ground.
No sledding no rolling no drifting of snow,
No snowmen or skiing just nowhere to go.
Tornadoes and inches upon inches of rain,
No snow this year we are all going insane.
No freezing or sneezing no catching a cold,
No burning no heat from the wood stove.
No blizzards or snowmen boots on the feet,
Like I said before,
Its eighty we cant stand the heat.
No scraping, no defrosting, the ground isnt froze,
No skating or ice fishing, just the blossoming of a rose.
Its Christmas I think but I could be wrong,
I look out my window and wonder where Christmas has gone!!!!
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2015
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Craig Munn Poem
so I went on a diet,
I wanted to lose 30 pounds,
I must have gained 100 when I joined up with them clowns.
No more chocolate in the morning,
or even late at night,
No more ice cream in the evening,
Before I say good night.
No fast food on the weekends,
Hamburgers and French fries,
No more sneaking potato chips,
No more little lies.
No pancakes for breakfast,
They are just way to fat,
No more chicken with BBQ sauce,
Id give it to my cat.
No more pizza for supper,
Sausage pepperoni and what not,
I have to empty my refrigerator out of all things I bought.
This diet really sucks now,
I really want to eat,
so I sneak a snickers bar and admit my defeat.
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2016
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Craig Munn Poem
If you think the first restaurant was bad,
Well this one Is worse,
There’s a dead guy in the kitchen,
Brought in by the hearse.
Boogers in the burgers,
Flies are in the soup,
The smell of chicken clutter,
Is coming from the coup.
The cow is just a mooing,
And spitting in the fries,
The chicken is a cooking,
We can all hear her cries.
A boa constrictor is in the dishes,
Hissing at the cat,
The pig is just a squealing cause their pumping out his fat.
If you order a drink here,
You may live to regret,
For the first taste of wonder,
Is a rat “that little pest”!
I’ll put it plain and simple,
In fact, I’ll tell it well,
If you decide to keep eating here,
Surely you’ll go through hell.
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2015
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Craig Munn Poem
Summer ,oh summer can’t you see,
You mean so much so much to me.
I miss the warmth from the air,
The breeze flying through my hair.
The sun beating on down,
The flowers growing from the ground.
The bees buzzing and flying about,
The dogs loud bark kids they shout.
The swimming, the playing, the climbing of trees,
The mountains the camping, more honey bees.
The walking in t-shirts, the bikinis and trunks,
No roof on the car, the smell of the skunk.
The lightening lighting up the sky,
The birds flying oh so high,
The coyotes howl, to the cows grazing in the field.
The pigs rolling in the mud as they squeal.
The candy comes in handy,
When going to the fairs,
The dancing the singing,
Sometimes in squares,
From black flies to mosquitoes biting in the night,
The campfire shinning its bright orange light.
Oh summer where are you?
Are you just a dream?
I want you back, do you hear my scream?
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2016
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Craig Munn Poem
The year without Santa has a special twist,
He caught a cold from giving a kiss.
He coughed and sneezed,
Cussed his runny nose,
He put on wool socks to warm his cold toes.
He lied in bed coughing and hacking,
While his wife set beside him telling stories and yacking.
No presents this year for the little kids,
Candy in stockings coals to get rid.
No flying around from house to house,
Old Santa was sick from kissing that mouse!
No cookies or milk,
Crumbs left behind,
No more merry Christmas hello or goodbye.
Unhook all the reindeer,
Lay off the elves,
Put the toys on hold,
And back on them shelves.
No Santa this year,
For Santa is sick,
Christmas is cancelled
And went by quick.
Santa won’t fly as he lies in bed,
Let’s hope and pray he don’t wind up dead!!!!!!!!!!!
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2015
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Craig Munn Poem
A typical morning in my house,
is my brother sleeping in,
sure he set his his alarm clock,
but he gave it to his twin.
my sisters just a crying,
shes all smelly and all wet,
the tiny dog is hiding,
cause he has to go to the vets.
the cat is just a meowing,
waiting to be fed,
the newspaper is on the counter top,
waiting to be read.
mom is cooking breakfast and smoking up the house,
dad is checking mouse traps,
looking for that mouse.
we finally set down together,
get ready to eat,
when a strange yet foreign odor,
knocks us out,
it is my brothers feet!!!!!!!!!
Copyright © Craig Munn | Year Posted 2016
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