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

My ancestors might have been Dutch
--A few of them, that is, as such.
On oatmeal they dined,
While trying to find
A tulip that won't cost them much

I'm really creative, they say.
I could make the world in a day,
But choose not to do it.
I think you'd all rue it,
'Cause I'd do things any which way.

I don't believe that you're fine.
I only know water's not wine,
And coffee's not juice,
And petunia's not spruce,
But if I'm wrong I'll not whine.

Today I will break every rule.
I find that exceedingly cool.
In a bid to confuse
I'll wear socks on my my shoes
And if challenged I'll shout "April Fool!"

I thought I would bring in some hives,
To make sure my flower bed thrives.
The bees got confused.
My friends they abused,
With stingers as sharp as jackknives.

King Lear had two daughters who swore
No one ever loved anyone more,
But the third one said "Dad,
Knock it off!" He went mad,
Giving rise to a torrent of gore.

We've heard of the weirdness of Lear.
His story was done by Shakespeare.
His daughters were strange,
And no one could change
The outcome, so it would appear.

I used to like playing croquet,
Until one quite horrible day
When my cousin Rick
Decided to kick
The ball through my family's buffet

I stayed at a quaint old chateau.
I dined on the finest gateaux.
My room was quite cold,
But the faucets were gold.
I stole them and ran through the snow.

"Oh, genie, I want super powers."
The genie spent hours and hours,
And when he was through,
I was stronger. I flew.
I also could cause April showers.

I went to the strangest bazaar.
The sellers all came from a afar,
With Witchhazel roots
And old bamboo flutes,
And grumpberries in a big jar.

I sit at my keyboard and simper.
Commitment grows steadily limper.
It did have its day
But it's fading away,
Ending not with a bang but a whimper.

Your edge, my friend, has not been lost,
Though on life's stormy seas you've been tossed.
Whenever you need
The will to succeed,
It comes, but at a great cost.

I really am quite at a loss,
To add to this mountain of dross.
It's been several years,
And many more beers,
To figure that I'm not The Boss.

It's super to see you again.
I hope life has not caused you pain.
The "dross" you deplore
Is what we've in store,
So join us, and see what you'll gain.

'Tis a pleasure to be by the seat,
Of a poet who writes such a treat,
Of verses and rhymes,
With no penance or fines,
The fun of it all can't be beat.

Life indeed has just caused me some pain,
In my muscles, all caused by my brain,
Diskynesia it's called,
It's like I've been mauled,
Then run over once by a train.

That's very sad news, clzoomer.
Pain may be a personal doom or
A fate self-inflicted,
But till you have licked it
Its presence is more than a rumour.

We're becoming an organ recital.
Let's hope we can all remain vital.
Let's get some fresh air,
And flowers to spare,
And from our woes get an acquital.

The fact that I am somewhat older,
And disease has become (to me) bolder,
I am a lot slower,
And lacking in power,
(I should leave rhymes like that in the folder)

I'm older, not sure sure if I'm better.
From dental bills I'm now a debtor.
Prescriptions I take
Barely keep me awake,
And no longer am I a go-getter.