Biography of George Hunter
I'm just a rhymer, not a poet,
Read one of mine and then you'll know it.
You don't have to pretend you understand,
It's as plain as day, like the palm of your hand.
Nothing esoteric, abstruse or recondite here,
Just something to read while drinking your beer.
George Hunter Poems
A Cat Called Nan I once had a cat called Nan Whose tail got caught in a fan.
There was a big feline named Dancer Who asked her mate for an answer. How do you titillate an ocelot? Why you just oscillate its titalot.
A Day At The Beach
One summer's day, with nothing better to do, I went to the beach to enjoy the view. Lots of cute babes lying around in the sand Trying their best to improve their tan.
A Strange Custom
As I was walking down the path In my head I did some higher math. They say that one and one makes two But I know that that's not always true
001 - A Cure For Everything
CAUTION: Reading this rhyme may give you a headache. I think I’ll take an Alka Seltzer to relieve my gut, Eating too much Mexican has put me in a rut.
A Gal Named Grace
There once was a gal named Grace Who had an ugly face —She said, 'My face I don't mind it, —'Cause I am behind it
Did you ever think that when you smell something good Like roasting coffee or cedar wood Or baking bread or sweet perfume That actual molecules are floating around the room?
Fire And Ice
Fire and ice, fire and ice, Fire and ice, they will suffice. With the huge flames glowing, glowing And the glaciers overflowing.
Six Weather Haiku
A beautiful day Sun’s shining, birds are singing God’s in his heaven.
A Horny Tale
There was a cow from Californy Who was very, very horny. He wasn’t sexy, instead Two biggies grew from his head
001 - B. O.
Beeeeee Ooooooo Beeeeee Ooooooo It sounds like a foghorn or a donkey braying. An ominous sound, if you know what I’m saying.
Now I lay me down to dreams Life's not always what it seems. Sometimes, to just get through the day I have to dream my life away.
Mea Culpa (My Bad)
Dragged out this morn Feeling so worn, Still in the stream Of a late dream.
On a lazy summer afternoon All of us boys were lying in the shade Talking about all kinds of things In a world we never made.
Busted flat in Baton Rouge, just before the rains,
Why would a person live here if they had an ounce of brains?
It's so hot and muggy in the good ole summertimes
And the natives all appear to have come from different climes.
Katrina just missed me but we got a good douse
And Gustave was worse and blew the shingles off the house.
Electricity was off but I thought I had a pass
Until my standby unit went and used up all my gas.
Have to stock more fuel before the next big blow