I GOT DRUNK, I GOT PLASTERED, I GOT BLITZED, I GOT DRIED OUT!
07 Monday Aug 2017
Posted Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, lyrics, Lyrics for a song, Poems, Writings
in07 Monday Aug 2017
Posted Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, lyrics, Lyrics for a song, Poems, Writings
in24 Sunday Jan 2016
Posted Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, Nonsensical, Writings
inTags
Mister Martin MacNamara makes marvelously meticulous metropolitan maps.
His wife Wilma weaves wonderfully whimsical well-favored Welsh wigs.
Her brother Barton bakes beautifully broiled butter battered Belgian buns.
His son Sammy stocks sensationally sweet Southern sarsaparilla sodas, and
his sister Sally stacks staggeringly striking sporty Spanish sombreros.
Their uncle Usual unloads upliftingly Utopian utterances under-fined until undermined. Understand? Neither do I.
That’s why his boss Buzzby just barks!
by John Patrick Seekamp 2016
12 Tuesday Jan 2016
Posted Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, Observations, Poems, Uncategorized, Writings
inThe tin can Tin Man that hung on our door,
There guarding us all day and night,
He secretly wanted to drop to the floor,
And walk to his heart felt delight,
But the way he was hooked he couldn’t get down,
The wire was wrapped all too tight,
He tried and he tried ’til his smile was a frown,
It’s no use, he thought of the plight,
Weeks by weeks, years by years, there he remained the same height,
Struggling hard not to give in to tears,
But not letting his dream go from sight,
Then late one eve as my family and I slept,
With the moon shining cloudless and bright,
The nail popped loose from where it was kept,
And from the door our can man took flight,
At first he stumbled and then he ran,
The clanging of his metal was quite,
All the neighborhood dogs they barked with a ban,
Giving the tin can Tin Man a good fright,
But it was when he came to a junkyard he stopped,
What is this I now see—-is that right?
And then the wooden fence he climbed up and hopped,
Soon his chest it pounded with might,
You see, in his heart he knew what he saw was his mate,
A female version of a knight,
And from that day forth they followed their fate,
For they had nine little tin cans outright!
by John Patrick Seekamp 2016
12 Tuesday Jan 2016
Posted Adventure, Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, lyrics, Lyrics for a song, Observations, Poems, Writings
inTags
Adventure in India, Asia, British Aristocracy, Getting out and doing something, Hunting from an elephant, Idea for a play, Jungles, lyrics, Maharajas, Song, Song lyrics, The wilds, Tiger hunt
While some prefer a quietude,
A chess and checkers attitude,
I prefer a good ol’ tiger hunt,
Instead of banters light and pleasant,
Of latest fashions and lunch of pheasant,
I travel India to kill—-and that is blunt,
I have no time for a leisure tea or a leisure life lived leisurely,
So off to the jungles of Asia I do go,
Though hunting big cats tops the list,
A nasty pig sticking I’ve rarely missed,
And a shot at a rhino or a croc I’ll often throw,
Yes once I was a proper aristocrat,
Wearing a lounge coat or a suit, cane, and top hat,
But soon that life became too boring,
For this old bird who’d rather go soaring,
I’m just a world class man of the wilds—-and that is that,
Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat!
You see, a Maharaja friend of mine,
Invited me to spend some time,
High atop his favorite elephant’s back,
So instead of sitting around in Surrey,
I hopped a boat and left all worry,
To those torn between a bauble and a knickknack,
In their fancy dress and fancy hats,
With their fancy pampered pussy cats,
They dare to dabble in discussions much too droll,
And while I’m out risking life and limb,
They’re sitting in fan cooled rooms lit dim,
Slowly snacking on kippered salmon served up whole,
Yes once I was a proper aristocrat,
Wearing a lounge coat or a suit, cane, and top hat,
But soon that life became too boring,
For this old bird who’d rather go soaring,
I’m just a world class man of the wilds—-and that is that,
Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat!
To conclude,
So to those who prefer the safe idle comforts of the parlor,
And not being out here on the trail of a growler or snarler,
Go ahead and shout “Muggins” in a card game or such,
While I hold the wonders of adventure in my clutch,
With gratitude—-it’s the wilds, or the jungles, or the brush, or the thickets for me,
With platitude—-after champagne and caviar, enjoy your cribbage my dear friends and fam-i-ly!
Yes once I was a proper aristocrat,
Wearing a lounge coat or a suit, cane, and top hat,
But soon that life became too boring,
For this old bird who’d rather go soaring,
I’m just a world class man of the wilds—-and that is that,
I’m Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat,
Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat!
by John Patrick Seekamp 2016
28 Wednesday Oct 2015
Posted Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, Short Story, Writings
inTags
Dictionaries, Funk and Wagnalls, Funny, Humor, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, Nonesensical, Oxford English, Webster's
Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster wrote a book. And which dictionary did Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster use? Webster’s? The Oxford English? I don’t know. Only Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster knows for sure. And she’s no longer here. No one, as far as I know, ever asked Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster which dictionary she used. Apparently Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster didn’t write down which dictionary she used, either. And furthermore perhaps Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster didn’t want anyone else to know which dictionary she used. Perhaps Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster was self conscience about using a dictionary bearing her last name. The last name being Webster, and all. Or perhaps the Oxford English Dictionary was too “high class” for Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster’s taste. Then again perhaps Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster simply didn’t possess either a Webster’s Dictionary and/or an Oxford English Dictionary. It may be, in fact, that Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster only possessed a Dr. Johnson’s Dictionary. Or even perhaps an up to date and modern Funk and Wagnalls Dictionary. And you thought you knew Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster. I’m sorry. Did I say Alice Jean Jane Chandler Webster? I meant to say Jane Alice Jean Webster Chandler. She wrote a book, too. I think. Anyway, Jane Alice Jean Webster Chandler never used a dictionary. She just made everything up. Just like I’m doing now. What? Who am I? Why I’m John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt’s cousin Joe. That’s right. Just Joe!
by John Patrick Timothy Seekamp 2015 (but you can call me John)
27 Tuesday Oct 2015
Tags
Black cats, Haiku, Humor, Mirrors, Mummies, Trick or Treaters, Werewolves, Witches
Black cat scares werewolf,
Mummy scares self in mirror,
Witch gives “Trick” to kids.
by John Patrick Seekamp 2015
27 Tuesday Oct 2015
Tags
Who are you, kidding?
I’m not kidding. I’m kipling.
I know. Just kipling!
by John Patrick Seekamp 2015
27 Tuesday Oct 2015
27 Tuesday Oct 2015
Posted Creative writing, Fiction, Haikus, Humor, Observations, Poems, Writings
in27 Tuesday Oct 2015
Tags
Q: What’s the best car to drive in the Fall?
A: An Autumn-mobile!
by John Patrick Seekamp 2015