Breaking Up is Hard to Do . . .
NOT!Poems from the book titled "SWEET SORROW & BITTER APPLE: Tastes of Love and Lust"
She’s GoneI woke to find that you were gone,
And took the silverware.
You also smashed the china plates,
But I don’t really care.
I found you took the coffee pot,
The skillet for my eggs,
And tied the dish towels in a knot
And sawed off two chair legs.
My stereo has been removed,
My CDs all are gone.
My Playboy magazines I found
Were spread across the lawn.
You took the bread, rolled it in balls,
In jelly scrawled a note,
In purple grape across four walls,
“Good bye, you jerk,”you wrote.
You drove the car across the yard,
And ran down three small trees,
I see you took my credit card
I’ll anticipate late fees.
You loaded up my beer and chips
In my old Boy Scout pack,
My first thought was to call your mom,
But she might send you back.
My friends would likely see my side,
But I can’t find the phone,
I’ll somehow get my own eggs fried.
It’s clear I’m on my own.
I’ll eat with fingers as I stand
Eat from a paper plate,
I know you’ll get the house and land,
And I’ll just get the gate.
Today, however, while in town
I’ll load up on more beer
The dog will lick the four walls down,
I’ll buy some camping gear.
I’ll rent a truck, there is no rush,
I’ll then load up this lender.
I’ll need to buy a new tooth brush
My old one’s in the blender.
And once I’ve got all that I need,
Including all new pills,
My dog and I will then be freed,
To head out for the hills.
You’re gone, you left, I’m on my own,
I’m free now of my spouse,
And I have beer, my dog has bone,
And I’ll burn down the house.
@ 2004 Bob Birch
Could Have Killed HerShe is no longer in my way,
I’m happy that she fled,
For had she stayed for one more day,
She’d sure as hell be dead.
Seems all she ever did was peck,
She never was much fun,
I thought that I could ring her neck,
Or go and buy a gun.
I finally had it all thought through,
A plan to take her life,
And cook her up in some fine stew,
I’d even honed my knife.
I figured I could slit her throat,
And let her bleed ‘til dead,
And as she ran around I’d gloat,
To see her with no head.
I guess her flight did save me this,
An awful lot of pickin’
But now I think I really miss
That mean old nasty chicken.
© 2004 Bob Birch
It’s TimeI think it’s time that we should part,
You’ve lost that sparkling charm,
You still can cause a pounding heart,
But now its from alarm.
I think you’ve gained at least twelve pounds,
Your middle sure has grown,
You fart and burp and make strange sounds,
I can’t sleep when you moan.
Your body smells, your breath is foul,
You gobble up your food,
It used to be you’d make me smile,
Now I’m not in the mood.
I’ve loved you so for many years
But now you’re such a hog,
And though I’ll miss those floppy ears,
I’ll give away my dog.
© 2004 Bob Birch
Enough is EnoughI think perhaps its time to go,
I only hope I can,
I know that you would wish it so,
As would that other man.
It’s OK that he eats with us,
And drives our minivan,
You know I will not even fuss,
That he’s an Elvis fan.
It’s OK that I sleep downstairs,
The couch is not that bad,
It’s OK that my clothes he wears,
But now I’m really mad.
I know he smoked my last cigar,
Drank up my stash of beer,
But he has now gone way to far,
So let me make this clear.
Seems when he watches our TV
What really gets my goat,
Is not that you sit on his knee,
But he’s got the remote.
©2004 Bob Birch
These and other humorous adult rhymes can be found in "SWEET SORROW & BITTER APPLE." This is a 62-page "chap book" with a fun collection of Bob's metered poems . . . guaranteed to make you chuckle. The book also includes erotic poems in free verse.
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