Category Archives: search engine optimized poet

Search Engine Optimized Poet – No One Reads This Blog

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

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This blog!

Whoa, this blog!

No one ever reads it at all!

BQB would probably get more readership,

if he posts his musings on the back of a bathroom stall.

Bawl.  Like a baby our blog host cries.

And whenever his blog stats are low, a little piece of him dies.

Sighs.  That’s the sound that he makes.

Every day when other little piece of his heart breaks.

Mistakes.  He’s made a few.

But if it’s one thing you don’t get in life, it’s a re-do.

Stew.  In his juices in his East Randomtown dive.

Wondering why no matter what he does, his readers only total 3.5.

 

 

 

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – An Ode to Bookshelf Q. Battler’s 35 Cents

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

BQB’s latest royalty earnings report for BQB’s Writing Prompts.

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35 cents!  Whoa, 35 cents!

BQB’s book sales profits are incredibly immense!

What will he buy, with 35 cents?

The possibilities are long and intense!

A fence?  To put around BQB HQ to keep out his legions of fans?

Sands, tropical sands, and the best laid plans of mouses and mans.

Jams!  BQB, make your jelly shake…

At the thought of the 35 cents you just did make.

You can now bake…35% of a cake.

Or sleep in a motel room for 35% of the time until you do wake.

Snake.  You could probably buy a serpent.

Or a few flakes of off brand laundry detergent.

Insurgent.  The lady who wrote that made much more than you.

But don’t feel bad, for 35 cents is better than a pile of poo.

That’ll do pig, that’ll do.  It’s what the farmer said to Babe.  I thought you knew.

Didn’t you?  Didn’t you already spend your 35 cents on a stick of gum?

Maybe you should just spread good will and give your 35 cents to a bum.

 

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – Safe Space

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

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Safe space!  Whoa, safe space!

The world is in a state of disgrace!

People want to speak their opinions, directly to my face.

As if there is a divergence of opinion amidst the entire human race.

Race!  To my safe space is where I will go.

For it is a place where no one can tell me, “No!”

Go!  Away is where YOU will be found.

For I should not have to hear different points of view while I am on sacred safe space ground.

Frowned!  That’s what I did, just the other day.

When you stuck a micro-aggression without trigger warning in my way.

At bay!  That’s where I want ideas that are not my own.

Cry long and hard I will if you make your different opinion known.

Phone!  I beg of you, do not use it to bore me,

With your thoughts while I’m safely ensconced in all of my safe space glory.

Story?  Sure, I would love to hear one.

But it’d better end with, “And then everyone agreed with me” before it is done.

Won!  This battle of hearts and minds is what I achieved.

For I managed to tune out any opposing speech that would leave me aggrieved.

At ease!  It’s how I feel now.

Now that I’m going to pet a therapy dog, a therapy cat, a therapy horse and a therapy cow.

Wow!  This therapy coloring book is better than listening to others speak their minds.

You go on without me.  I must stay here and stay within the lines.

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – Kendall Jenner’s Pepsi Commercial

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

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Pepsi!  Whoa, Pepsi!

You are what I drink when Coke is not available.

When the waitress asks, “Is Pepsi OK?”

I want to say, “No, it is not!  Your argument is assailable!”

But that would be fail-able.  Who am I to ask,

A minimum wage slave to go to a store for Coke?  What a difficult task!

Bask, in Kendall Jenner’s glow.

As she hocks syrupy goo to protestors to and fro.

No!  I do not care about your cause!

For Coke is the drink that I really want in my paws.

Pepsi is the drink that will only sort of do.

Kind of like how you’ll take someone below average,

Even though a supermodel is who you really wanted to screw.

Subdue!  My mind from such terrible frustration.

I must deliver apologies across the entire nation.

For I am being truly crass and even a little bloated, yes it’s true!

I drank too much Pepsi at the super woke protest,

And now I feel like I need to spew.

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – Nude Photos of Kim Kardashian

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

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Kim K!  Whoa, Kim K!

Your search for her butt brought you this way.

A corpulent derriere that chases the blues away

And leaves you without anything left to say.

Hooray!  It’s what I say when I see an increase in my 401K.

How do I open up one of those accounts anyway?

I must find out today.  Or maybe tomorrow.

Is there a way to cure my depression?  My source of everlasting sorrow?

Go!  To your favorite place to eat.

Where is the closest restaurant that I can walk to with my feet?

Heat.  How warm is the weather?

Yikes.  To my computer I am attached with a tether.

Feather.  What kind does an ostrich have on its back?

“That’s whack.”  People used to say that in 1994.

Hey!  Is someone knock, knock knocking on my back door?

I really should wash my dirty kitchen floor.

To my bucket, what is the very best soap that I can pour?

I adore…Adele but I can’t pick which song of hers I like more.

Shore.  How long will it take to swim there?

Is it possible to survive an attack from an angry bear?

There!  That’s the end of this artistic rant.

And now your demand for nude photos of Kim Kardashian is what I will grant.

If you desire to see the most gigantic butt in the world, then pop open a beer.

Put up your feet and don’t forget to click here.

 

 

 

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – An Ode to Ken Bone

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SEO Poet

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

Ken Bone!

Whoa, Ken Bone!

Why is your sweater so bright?

Portly mustached man with thinning hair and glasses for your sight.

Fright?  Of a world that doesn’t treat you right?

No. He refused to give that thought a single respite.

He wanted answers as to the country’s energy plight.

Fight! That’s what the presidential debate was.

But…buzz! That’s what Ken Bone got because…

…he wears his lip fuzz…

…like a boss.  He didn’t get cross and he had nothing to hide

A breathe of fresh air while the rest of the country sighed,

At two dummies who make the founding fathers cry.

Ken Bone! Look at you and the way you plug about your day.

Just because you’re not a supermodel you don’t feel any dismay.

Or, if you do, it never shows,

Even though around and around the toilet bowl is where our country goes.

Ken Bone you are a star, especially to me,

And a champion of non-supermodels everywhere, just like BQB.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE: I’d like to say I’m very proud of Ken Bone.  Although I have to say it shouldn’t be a news story that someone who is a little chubby and style challenged was able to ask an interesting question at a presidential debate, I’m glad that he did.

He’s become a bit of an Internet sensation and I feel part of that is a lot of people saying, “Wow! People who don’t look like supermodels have thoughts?!”

Yes. Yes they do. Stop being so surprised.

Still, as far as I’ve heard, no one seems to be busting on him (at least not in a mean way) so whenever the Internet shows class we can be happy.

Finally, to increase SEO optimization, allow me to say – Ken Bone! Ken Bone. Ken Bone. Ken Bone, the guy in the red sweater who asked a question at the presidential debate.

Yes, the debate with Trump vs. Clinton where Ken Bone asked a question about energy. Also, Ken Bone.  Or possibly, Kenneth Bone.

 

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – Who Bought the Playboy Mansion?

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the Googler’s feets, ya dig?

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Playboy Mansion! Whoa, Playboy Mansion!

Who in the hell purchased you?

Is Hugh Hefner’s reign really though?

I heard Hugh’s neighbor bought you.

To combine both properties and make one out of two.

Your new owner owns Twinkies, the snack cake filled with cream.

I feel like with that mansion, there are jokes to be made about cream.

Dare I dream?

No it would be too obscene.

Charlie Sheen.

He probably would have liked to live there.

I hope I don’t get eaten by a bear.

What is the best brand of underwear?

Can I go to IKEA to buy a chair?

Stare.

At BQB’s web hits as they go up.

Why does that guy at Starbucks write my name on my cup?

I know who I am. I don’t need to be told twice.

If I borrow my friend’s hat, will I come down with lice?

Nice. Is that a good way to be?

I wouldn’t know.

I spend all my time up a tree.

Yippee. It’s time to take a snooze.

Can someone tell me what is the best brand of mattress to use?

I suppose whichever one I choose.

What is happening in the daily news?

The election.

I should give it an inspection.

To determine the country’s ultimate direction.

Wait a minute. I just found my old playboy mags and got an erection.

Damnation. This whole poem needs an entire course correction.

Confection. It’s a sugary snack.

Can you believe that Jon Snow is back?

I’m the worst poet ever. Truly, a hack.

Talent is something that I utterly lack.

Will Fox ever bring Firefly back?

What are the lyrics to Love Shack?

It was the B-52’s greatest hit.

Back in the 90’s. So long ago. I can’t believe it.

Holy shit. Where did the time go?

Can anyone recommend a site that will teach me to sew?

I don’t know. But I know I ripped my pants.

Because I watched So You Think You Can Dance?

And fooled myself into thinking, “Yes. I do think I can dance.”

Like Lady Gaga, I’m trapped in a bad romance…

…with myself. I don’t know how to leave me.

I have dumped myself a thousand times but I inevitably go back to retrieve me.

I shouldn’t take myself back. I will only deceive me.

Perhaps myself and I should get a divorce.

I could drive away. Myself could leave on a horse.

The Norse. Aren’t they from Norway?

I have hit rock bottom. I have nothing left to say.

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – What is Beyonce’s Lemonade About?

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the Googler’s feets, ya dig?

Lemonade!  Whoa, Lemonade!

What is Beyonce’s new album all about?

Is Rachel Roy “Becky with good hair?”

Of that can there be any doubt?

Or is it about black female power?

Hell, is it just about a tasty yellow drink that is sour?up-korora-beatnik-800px

I swear I don’t know and I have been at this for an hour.

Hair!  Becky with good hair!

Who in the heck could you be?

Where can I find you, Becky oh Becky, are you way up high in a tree?

HBO!  Whoa, HBO!  Why are there so many good shows on you?

When Melisandre turned into an elderly hag, I swear I almost made a Number Two.

Melisandre’s necklace!  Whoa, Melisandre’s necklace!

Every time I say it BQB’s blog stats sore.

Melisandre’s necklace! Whoa, Melisandre’s necklace!

Haven’t I seen Melisandre without her necklace on before?

Snore.  I can’t get to sleep.

Where can I buy a used truck or a Jeep?

Is it very hard to raise sheep?

Where is Jimmy Hoffa? Was he buried too deep?

Creep.  So I’m creepin’ on the down low,

‘Cept nobody’s supposed to know.

Oh Lisa Left Eye Lopes,

You took my heart with you when you did go.

Joe.  I need a good strong cup.

And maybe later I’ll drink a 7-Up.

Did you know Orlando Jones used to be the 7-Up guy?

Crap. I’m so old now I could cry.

But why?  Why is Gwen Stefani the best member of No Doubt?

And please, won’t someone tell me what Beyonce’s Lemonade Album is all about?

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