Tag Archives: Life

Remember The Instigators

Today we thank the eager few

Who gave their lives for me and you,

Who walked through fire, blood, and steel

Knowing well how it would feel,

Enduring all put in their path,

Both human fear and nature’s wrath.

They kept their word and walked the walk

‘Cause politicians wouldn’t talk.

Tomorrow we will thank the few,

Among their number maybe you,

Who stood their ground and bravely said

“We do not want our children dead.”

“We do not need what others own.

We welcome strangers to our home.

The cause of each and every war

Are those in whom our power we store.”

Today remember soldiers late

So those to come won’t share their fate.

There’ll be no “Those who came before”

When humankind says “no” to war.

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Subtitles Wa, Kawaii Desu

I watched American cartoons

All day every day.

My dad said I should read more

So now I watch anime.

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The New Theory Of Relativity

If you’re in the bathroom

And a minute passes by

You don’t even notice

That on the other side

The guy outside the bathroom

Has lived 100 years alone

In a near-death state while you

Read your email on your phone.

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Autobiography, Chapter 1

Writing lousy poems

Is really not that hard.

It doesn’t take a lot of work

To be a blogging bard.

The only bit that’s difficult

Is deciding what to write,

Thus my meta-poetry

At 10 o’clock at night.

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Gobbledegook

In the wilds of Gobbledegook

Are paths too many overlook.

One path most people think is lost

Leads to a world exempt of cost,

Where man and nature have no laws,

Where an effect may have no cause,

Where you may hear a singsong tune

That smells like sunset on the moon.

The goblins that live in this land

Live lives most thoroughly unplanned,

Not to be shared with people doomed

To travel on a path more groomed.

If you are one who seeks to find

The secrets of the unthought mind,

To seek safety via dangers

Know this: Goblins welcome strangers.

All you need to live for free

Is to stare at what you can’t see.

The best place to start to not look?

Try the wilds of Gobbledegook.

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58008 is the new 90210

More men than women study math,

Professionally at least.

This is true from North to South

And also West to East.

It’s not because women are dumb

Or men like math by fate…

It’s that all boys love what happens

When you invert 7,251×8.

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The Circle Of Life

Beneath the cloudless golden sky of Summer,

Atop the countless rainbow leaves of Fall,

In the stinging hail and drifting snow of Winter,

I lived happily ever after after all.

And in the rains and flowery winds of Springtime

When life, besieged by Winter comes to mend,

I find a big ass spider in my shower

And the fairy tale (and spider’s life) must end.

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Unsung

Amid a thousand oceans

Each a million miles wide,

In a world of fire and darkness

Wherein countless billions died,

A world of steel and angels

Where dragons fill the sky

There lives alone amidst the trees

One totally normal guy.

And as the forests rise into

The universe above

And about him rages endless war,

Between hatred and love,

Surrounded by heroic few

Defenders of what’s right

He lies back on his sofa bed

And tells himself “Good night.”

Saints are slain and martyrs made,

The underworld calls those

Whom destiny has newly bade

To be those whom death chose

Mountains crumble feebly

And utopias collide

And that single lonely sofa man

Just mumbles, “Hey, I tried.”

And though he never earned a place

Among the Gods or Lords of Deep

He ate a balanced diet

And always got a good night’s sleep.

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Evening Meditation

As the light fades to yellow

And to bright orangey-red

I summon my thoughts

About life to my head.

As red turns to green

Like autumn reversed

I think of life’s moments,

The best and the worst.

As green turns to amber

The cycle repeats

And I cherish life’s beauty,

The adventures and treats.

Then the light’s green again

And in my pensive mood

I ask “what’s with the honking

“And why are drivers so rude?”

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Truth, AKA The Last Resort

Once again I find myself

Besot by evening’s chill,

No longer in possession of

The time I had to kill.

My mind fixates upon the task

I’ve thus far left undone:

I swore I’d write a poem a day

And yet have written none.

Thus I lie upon my bed

Writing where I am now,

Stating the truth about my life

As syllables allow.

Now comes the peril of present-tense:

I write that I’m writing,

Now I reread the previous line

To see if it’s exciting.

I also find, where once I wrote

Six syllables then eight,

My meter has forsaken me

By virtue of it’s late.

Thus endeth my desperate foray

To create relevant verse.

To all reading I bid good night!

(Poetry is a curse).

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