Poetry by Ian Rand McKenzie

Silly Rhymes and Writing Good Times

Pandemic Typographer

When I have a cold
My sinuses turn bold

I capitalize my sneezing
Underline my wheezing

I'm filled with snot
As I adorn an i with a dot

I cough with great might
As my symptoms raise their X-height

Pestillence here, is this the rapture?
We must unite to survive, humanity's ligature

Our task: washing hands, the ultimate defender
If not, we'll be buried, like an excessive descender

Flower by Flower

I just got flowers for a lady
My motives are not shady

The truth of the matter rings true
I honor her is if she were new

Like a novel fascination
That resists dissipation

My true love not fleeting
Day by day, like a climb of the tower
For her, my heart beating
Day by day, flower by flower

Saying No

The more I say, "no"
Truth may be revealed
Of my inner glow
Insecurities nil concealed

From there, understanding birthed
New ways of thinking unearthed

Acceptance begins
No more sins

Against those I love and our inner fires
Against ourselves and our true desires

Against the clockwork elf
Against my divine self

Tall Woman

I have a distant memory
Of a tall woman, so shimmery

Three times my size
My head up to her thighs

She wore a thin layer
Of blush and eyeliner

Off to a party
With laughs so hearty

I paid little attention
Of the things she mention

Her heart was soaring
What do I care? Adults are boring!

Ancient Bodies

There is a great shame
In this contemporary culture
Forgetting the origin of our name
This self-inflicted torture

Of course, value the insights of today
But, let us not stray

From the wisdom of old
The tales that were told

Our minds are new
With their technology penchant
Remember what's true:
Our bodies are ancient


I'm as awkward as...
A hog-tied snake
A dirt farm rake
A milkless shake
A fishless lake
A red tide clam bake
A red state gay wedding cake
Arbitrary rhymes, for goodness sake!


Almost every day
I am celebrateful
Of almost every way
That I am grateful

Sometimes it is miniscule
Others, it is great
Sometimes it is obscure
Others, painfully forward and straight

It makes no difference
The point is the act
To shed my indifference
And acknolowedge the fact...

...that it's easy to be grateful
That your future will be fateful...

...of experiencing joy
Of feeling belonging
Recognizing others' time is not your toy
To be here now, instead of yearnful longing


Everyone I know
Is a sagely mentor
Teaching what to bolster
And what to temper

Some of my mentors
Are cautionary tales
Are wind in my sails
Lift me from my fails

I have pure love and affection
To those I've paid attention
Numerous they may be
At least a thousand, maybe three

If you are one
You are my sun

Lighting my path
Culling my wrath

A kind and gentle lull
Warming and guiding my soul

Christmas Stocking

Everyone is mocking
My trusty Christmas stocking

With its big buttons
And size for a glutton

Everyone stares in shock
At my big 'ol Christmas sock

Yet it does have a small fandom
For its quirks are not random

Turns out, some poeple love
My silly Christmas foot glove

From when its design was first drafted
In turn, love is how it was crafted


If my house was ablaze
I would navigate the maze

To get all my stuff
My electronics, collectibles, and fluff

You know what I wouldn't mind?
If I left my wife behind

Because, WIFE BAD! That's my humor
You call it mean, I call it 'boomer'
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