Poetry by Michelle Mundling
I am the true and sole author of all the poems posted to this web site.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
My Poem to Rob Dyke to Commemorate 500,000 You Tube Subscribers
Note: On September 10, 2012, Rob Dyke became a You Tuber and referred to his channel as The Rob Dyke Experience. He has uploaded 180 videos to date, ranging from comedy to educational to social commentary. Please take the time to click on the link below to go to his You Tube Channel. Other links for his Facebook Fan Page, Twitter, and Instagram are also listed below.
Rob Dyke's You Tube Channel
https://www.youtube.com/user/TheRobDyke
Rob Dyke's Twitter
https://www.twitter.com/TheRobDyke
Rob Dyke's Facebook Fan Page
https://www.facebook.com/OfficialRobDyke
Rob Dyke's Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/robdyke
Become a patron of Rob Dyke's work as he strives to make his videos even better!
http://www.patreon.com/RobDyke
On September 10th of 2012
You started making videos, originally by yourself
Teasing the viewers who came to be curious
By promising them all The Rob Dyke Experience
Half a million subscribers is no small feat
Word of your talent spread on the 'net and the street
You put in a lot of work -- blood, sweat, and tears
You made is this far in less than two years
Words of wisdom, Top 5 Lists, and How-to Vids
Grandma Plays ..., The Last Twinkie, Wax Off (not for kids!)
Things Skank Hoes Say ... you had no shame
Let's list more shows that brought you fame
Why Would You Put that on The Internet
Dumbass people and drama queens upset
You also came up with Seriously Strange
Disturbing yet informative, covering a wide range
Previous episodes like Talking Trash
A walking garbage can with a passion to bash
Rob Dyke @ Dark would pop up occasionally
With you, Bob, and Justin acting crazily
Branching out was only natural, of course
You created a new channel called Zombie Horse
Reviving the dead to beat it again
With crappypasta and video gameplay now and then
Your talen has proven you're no one-trick pony
You're down to earth, certainly not a phony
You care about your fans; you treat them like friends
You remember their names, you devotion transcends
I wrote this to tell you how happy I am for you
But you can't stop now! No way are you near through
New skits, serious or comedy, maybe even vaudevillian
Time to go forth with a new goal of one million
(c) Michelle Mundling
July 20, 2014
Thursday, June 14, 2012
My True Story of Birdie
Birdie birdie on my floor
Walking though my back porch door
I think you fell, your wing went splat
OMG here comes my cat!
You don't fly and you don't balk,
You just turn your tail and walk.
I watch all this and think it's whack,
Gabby's sniffing but won't attack.
She'll lift her paw and give a poke,
I strongly suspect your wing is broke.
I pick you up with a bowl and plate
While I ponder your uncertain fate.
I look you over and stroke your head
You let me hold you, you don’t play dead
You don’t peck, struggle or bite
You show no fear, your eyes are bright
The cat follows me to the door outside
One last sniff, cat’s eyes are wide
Open as she chatters excitedly
While I step out front to set Birdie free
Can you survive outside even if you won't fly?
We won't know unless we try.
I put you down on the grass
And wait to see what comes to pass.
Birdie Birdie starts to walk.
I'm worried that my cat might stalk.
But Gabby cat stays at the door
I watch the little bird some more.
It seems to be walking well,
So the best that I can tell
He has a chance to continue on.
I turn my back from the lawn.
Gabby's still at the door watching the bird,
I go into the house without saying a word.
She meows at me as I close the door.
Sorry cat, you can't play with Birdie no more.
Note: This really did happen last Tuesday afternoon.
Walking though my back porch door
I think you fell, your wing went splat
OMG here comes my cat!
You don't fly and you don't balk,
You just turn your tail and walk.
I watch all this and think it's whack,
Gabby's sniffing but won't attack.
She'll lift her paw and give a poke,
I strongly suspect your wing is broke.
I pick you up with a bowl and plate
While I ponder your uncertain fate.
I look you over and stroke your head
You let me hold you, you don’t play dead
You don’t peck, struggle or bite
You show no fear, your eyes are bright
The cat follows me to the door outside
One last sniff, cat’s eyes are wide
Open as she chatters excitedly
While I step out front to set Birdie free
Can you survive outside even if you won't fly?
We won't know unless we try.
I put you down on the grass
And wait to see what comes to pass.
Birdie Birdie starts to walk.
I'm worried that my cat might stalk.
But Gabby cat stays at the door
I watch the little bird some more.
It seems to be walking well,
So the best that I can tell
He has a chance to continue on.
I turn my back from the lawn.
Gabby's still at the door watching the bird,
I go into the house without saying a word.
She meows at me as I close the door.
Sorry cat, you can't play with Birdie no more.
(c) Michelle Mundling
June 2012
Note: This really did happen last Tuesday afternoon.
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