h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

A fellow from near Davis Junction
Renown for dispensing of unction
To the sick and the needy
The upstanding and seedy
'Twas quite an unusual function

Some time, I'll admit it has been,
Since some of us here have been *seen*,
But for better or worse,
We all have the curse,
Of being quite limerick keen.

Each moment is over so fast,
There's no way of making it last.
It seems self-defeating
That time is so fleeting:
As soon as it's present, it's past.

Could we freeze it on film or in ice?
Hanging on to good times would be nice
Our youth to maintain
And health we'd retain
Has anyone helpful advice?

Younger siblings have more education
Than elders, whose main occupation
Is putting them right
When they err, with a fright,
A dire warning, too much information.

Interesting, does this lyric ring true
In the clan that begat one such as you?
Is it just fiction
To showcase your diction?
Or is the elder to rue maybe you?

YB

As aged an oldster as I,
Try my best to just get quite by,
My children and kin
See the state I am in,
They compliment me and do lie.

My father had one elder sister,
So wilful you couldn't resist her.
I'm the youngest of four,
And a know-all, a bore,
The proverbial in-the-way blister.

Reflecting on forty years past
The times that we had such a blast
The things we regret
The people we've met
And the feeling it's going too fast

Where are we going and why?
Is there even a reason to try?
And if so, for what?
Does it matter? No, but
Still we care and we love and we cry

A journey to nowhere with friends
Or foes, it just really depends
On if we give or take
If we're honest, or fake
If we practice revenge, or amends

Is there time yet to learn how to live?
Is there love enough in us to give?
Will our end be okay?
Will it be a nice day?
Can we figure out how to forgive?

The road ahead leads to decay
As our lives slowly wither away
Let's dance while we can
Every woman and man
It can't do no harm anyway

Let's fill our lives brimming with joy
Like a kid with a shiney new toy
And share, always share
And show that we care
Every last woman, girl, man and boy

Today I just turned forty-two
A number to those of us who
Read books by ol' Doug
So if I seem smug
What else could I possibly do?

The ultimate answer to all
From extravagant to down-right banal
The programs complete
Once more, I repeat
I'm forty-two, lets have a ball

One caveat, there's been some suggestion
That upon a more sober reflection
Though the answer is good
To be understood
One must comprehend also, the question

We have to congratulate you
On achieving the famed 42
We'll say it once more
When you reach 84
But for now this will just have to do

At that age my own life was quite frivolous,
With women and drink, all quite amorous.
With time I do do find,
I have fun in my mind,
I'm less likely to wake up quite bilious.

Inertia's a formidable foe
When duty says it's time to go
I'd rather just sit
And think about it
As my waist begins quickly to grow

If I could just get my body to move
I'd shortly get into a groove
Then inertia's my friend
A mere means to an end
And my mind and my body improve

A groove is a happy condition;
You lose every sad inhibition;
Not lumbered with doubt,
Your inetria fades out
And your plans simply come to fruition.

Damn typos! That "inetria" was supposed to be "inertia" but Yogabiker's image of inertia becoming your friend is better. So make it "Unencubered by doubt/Your momentum rolls out"

More damn typos

Your 'putter seems subject to GIGO,
'Though it wasn't that way from the getgo,
Give the keyboard a rest,
Drink pint would be best,
And all problems will seemingly let go.

What on earth made you able to think
Typoes could be cured by more drink?
The mind will not clear
By adding more beer
Or fix a machine on the blink

Meditation might help, or bed rest
And if that don't put him at his best
Try coffee or tea
Failing that mabe he
Could take that machine in for a test

You're both very helpful and sweet
But the thing is, I type with my feet
In my mouth. Yep, I guess
It's P. B. K. A. S.
(Prob. between keyboard and seat).

Yesterday they gave me the sack
For being a "useless old hack"
But, then, of course
It could've been worse
The last guy they stretched on the rack