Twenty years or so before
I turned the age of 24
I feared to give a paper heart
To that one special lass.
Ten years after, now 14
I’ve had my eye on other queens
But my feeling for the paper heart girl
Never seems to pass.
In the present world we find
Our troubled and still childish mind
Called to give the other sex
Eternal loyalty.
I’m loyal to who understands
My paper heart and shaking hands.
Does she still exist? Perhaps
In ten more years we’ll see.
Filed under Poems
With a voice like something crushed between a bagpipe warming up
And an elephant gargling human teeth, kevlar, and 7-Up
She turned her face towards me (which neither she nor I enjoyed)
And said “Thank you for listening. That was “Hey you” by Pink Floyd.”
Filed under Poems
There is no good or evil,
Just what we like or don’t.
Nothing is impossible,
Only what we will or won’t.
For every fearful sceptic
Who says “Man cannot fly”
There is Wright or Icarus
Who’s laughing from the sky.
You’ll be blessed with many Yeses
For every worldly No.
Will you risk Youtube infamy
To give your dream a go?
Filed under Poems
Go back a century or so
And you’ve got places blacks can’t go.
You’d be shamed to dare to love
A person from a class above.
Today my alma maters wants
To build us “No white student” haunts
And though we seek to seem the same
What’s “Commonplace” is seen as lame.
Back then we fought for equal rights
For blacks and browns and reds and whites.
Now in our “That’s racist” nation
We praise illegal immigration.
Does no one else yet see the flaw
In praising those who break the law,
The symptoms of a dying nation
Shouting for resegregation?
Yes, I want love, so please desist
With calling me “Supremacist”
And maybe past our skin we’ll find
We share a human heart and mind.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I like to sit
And feel the wind between my toes,
To plant some seeds behind my ears
And see if something grows,
To boil a pot of water
Then cool it with my breath.
I call it “life with nature.”
Dad calls it “side-effects of meth.”
Filed under Poems
The young bet on clubs
And slowly lose their mind.
The grown bet on diamonds
And what they seek, they find.
The old bet on spades
And in time all follow suit.
For those who bet on hearts
Best be rich, or else be cute.
Yet I drew five jokers…
I’m either destined for greatness
Or I bet on too many clubs.
Filed under Poems
What if, with perfect certainty, you knew how to be good. You
Would have no ills or evils. With this great power would you
Live your life accordingly, an angel we’d admire,
Or is flawless, certain perfection a goal to which you’d not aspire?
Now if perfection weren’t certain and ’twas painful to act well
Would you trade your Earthly pleasure for 50/50 odds of Hell?
Would you suffer every moment if it might bring future joy
Or would you say “be happy now” and make pleasure your toy?
The point that I am making is in our uncertain years
Where our good or evil instincts are affected by our fears
That we might be a villain who believes that we are just
Or perhaps a clumsy angel whose good intent is all a bust.
If you’d be truly evil or would be extremely good
Then here’s a course of action that to take I think you should:
To seek a path of certainty. Through thinking you will find
More often the results you seek are those which you will find
And if another does you wrong seek not to cast your blame
But know that if you thought like him you’d probably do the same.
Hero, villain, victim are alike a future you
So why not think and weight the coin that judges all we do?
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
If I weren’t so cynical
I’d probably be equally sad,
Not because I’m cynical
But because the world’s just bad.
We build our lives to last
When no life ever will,
Polishing details
That only we can see.
We want to climb the ladder,
Be the king of every hill
While most things in the world
Will exist below the sea.
We bend and bleed and labor,
Flap our wings but seldom fly.
We might overcome our nature
But that is not my wish.
We could be a flying whale
But I have to wonder why
We would be unhappy whales
Instead of very happy fish.
Filed under Poems
Though made to feed a bovine calf
We stole you from the mother,
Mixed you with bacteria
And rennet to feed another.
We formed this new more-yellow you
Into a wheel of cheese
To be sliced and melted freely
By whosoever it should please.
Your sacrifice is noted
And has brought the world much joy
And we’ll fight to keep you relevant
In a world obsessed with soy.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 