At 5:00 AM I woke up
And went for a three-mile run.
At 6:00 AM I wrote a love note
To my honeybun.
At 7:00 AM I had breakfast:
Gold-plated caviar.
At 1:20 PM I lied in a poem
And that’s my day so far!
At 5:00 AM I woke up
And went for a three-mile run.
At 6:00 AM I wrote a love note
To my honeybun.
At 7:00 AM I had breakfast:
Gold-plated caviar.
At 1:20 PM I lied in a poem
And that’s my day so far!
Filed under Poems
A hero stood and spoke the truth,
Was called unwise, uncool, uncouth,
Was thrown out by the ruling men
But in the streets he spoke again.
His home was burned, his name was mocked,
His faith was tested, his world was rocked.
He was left penniless in shame
But when he spoke, he spoke the same.
He watched as liars took control,
Saw how untruths extract their toll.
The Earth collapsed beneath a word,
While the truth was spoken, yet unheard.
Left with no ground to stand upon,
When everything he loved was gone,
The Earth was ash, but still he stood;
He was the only one who would.
But from the ash a flower grew,
A cloud allowed the sunshine through,
A bird sang out a cheerful song
And the hero saw that he was wrong:
Life was good, so broken-hearted
The hero silently departed.
Filed under Poems
I saw a guy driving today
Who had a sign in their back window:
“Please stay back,
“New stick shift driver.”
I’m putting that in the back window
Of every car I buy
From this day forward.
Filed under Poems
He’s hiding in a cloud of dust,
Relearning how to never trust.
Her taillights shining in his eyes,
He doesn’t know just how it ended.
Her ears await the next catcall,
In jeans too tight and skin too small,
Praying to what she knows are lies
For the pleasure of being offended.
Both parties borrow from tomorrow
To hide from yesterday’s Pompeii.
They can’t forget about each other
So they settle to forget about today.
He held the door of the gilded cage
And didn’t understand her rage.
He thought he’d shown her chivalry
But she called it the living dead.
Her body language said “I’m cheap.”
She told him she was losing sleep.
He said “I’ll fix this. Hmm, let’s see,”
Then noticed she’d already fled.
They’re hiding from tomorrow’s sorrow
In yesterday’s hip hip hooray.
They hate but obey what they ought
And settle to forget about today.
They’re told by shadows high above
What they must think and say and love
Never asking if or why
Shadows live and love to lie.
They’d rather borrow from tomorrow
To pave the way for yesterday
But within them, on the highest shelves
Are two uncaged, unsullied selves
Whispering in voices clear
So only quiet minds can hear
The truth forbidden by the they:
No one ever lives beyond today.
I used to be wealthy, handsome, and brave.
I used to be known as whom all women crave.
I used to be humble, witty, and wise
But then I stopped speaking in nothing but lies.
Filed under Poems
Everything’s fine.
I won’t get mad.
I don’t care about your exes.
I’m almost ready.
I’ll call you right back.
I don’t mind you buying that Lexus.
I really don’t care.
I really don’t mind.
I really (insert anything here).
No, I’m not jealous
And if we get married
I’ll never make you watch Shakespeare.
Filed under Poems
Such is the river adamant:
Neither deep
Nor swift upon the rocks
Of misunderstanding,
Nor should she nod
When it means “optic nerve,”
Or so the sages said.
Two times the wolf.
Two times the narrator.
So why is this a lie detector?
Just read this to someone and ask them what it means to them.
If they say “it’s crap,” congratulations! You have an honest friend.
If they say “the bit about the wolf was chilling” (or anything else, for that matter) you have a suck up, a liar, or (worst of all) a PhD on your hands.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
I stood out here once before
Seeking what could not be found
Head to toe in the neon cloak of midnight
Listening for the absence of a sound.
I saw humans crawl past empty sidewalks
Burning gas and paying fares
On the way to work that will empower them
To buy their surplus worries and cares.
They seek comfort in a glasses, pills, and needles,
Pray for hope through a politician’s lies.
Paychecks promise them the satisfaction
Of being happy in someone else’s eyes.
Red-eye pilots flee this urban heaven
Carrying those with sense enough to flee.
I just read my scripts and idly wonder
What it’s like to see a real tree.
Filed under Poems
When I was ten
The world was bright.
The sun would wear a smile.
When I was twenty
The world was fun
And I ran a four-minute mile.
After I turned the thirty
The world was my oyster.
I was truly in the flow,
And now I’m ninety-eight years old
Being told “the memory’s first to go.”
Filed under Poems