Ask any man “Would you marry?”
And the man will most-likely say “Sure.”
He’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days
To announce his commitment to her.
Ask any girl “Would you marry?”
And she’ll smile and say “Yes” with glee.
“And he’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days
“To announce his commitment to me!”
Filed under Poems
This may be oversimplified
But I think there’s just one sin:
To sacrifice one’s love of life
In the hope you’ll somehow win.
Filed under Poems
There’s a lot in life to pass on
Like the buck, the ball, the chance,
The slow guy in the right lane
And the guy who wants to dance.
There’s a lot in life to pass on
But some we should pass more:
A smile, a joke, a genius stroke,
What matters at our core.
We can take a pass on vacuuming
Without many repercussions
But we don’t get back missed kisses
And unlistened-to discussions.
And as you pass decisions
Other folks are passing too
So tell the world “I’m open”
And smile at what gets passed to you.
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.
In this world of cats and dogs,
Of black and white, of bricks and logs,
It seems it nature’s choice we trust
The things which most resemble us,
Because of nature or our minds,
We oft call “evil” other kinds
Of creatures, colors, or supplies;
To do this I don’t think is wise.
If dogs chase cats or cats scratch dogs,
If we stack bricks or burn some logs
We do these things not out of spite
But merely ’cause it feels right.
So are we, by our nature, wrong
To do as we’ve done all along
Merely since a precious few
Feel malice as these things they do?
Shall we, must we, can we insist
That the building and the chase desist?
Are we all not good human beings
But, one and all, [Insert here]-ist fiends?
I like to think what harm we do
Is in pursuit of what is true,
And if we don’t find verity
We fail with true sincerity.
Impose not evil on the Earth
For no more than being given birth
And if another’s sin you see
Know the sinner is human like you and me.
Perhaps through this we’ll forget war,
We’ll never suffer anymore.
More likely we’ll still scratch and bite
But, mindfully, still smile despite.
Filed under Poems
The day that Venus touched my hand
The night was dark upon the land;
The wind was very chill and grim
And the streetlights’ respites scarce and slim.
As her fingers met with mine
I longed for them to intertwine.
I held on tight as she let go.
How chill and grim the wind did blow!
I asked her why she ran away
But, no longer present, she’d naught to say.
And as I stood there all alone
I realized she stole my phone.
Venus, it seems, knew the pickpocket’s art
But knew not that she stole my heart.
So I launched “Find my iPhone”
And followed with a heart of stone
The steps to find my mobile and
The Venus who had touched my hand.
Down I followed many miles
Towards the thief and all her wiles,
Past the park and through the woods
And into shady neighborhoods
Until upon the spot came I
Where Apple said “Your phone’s nearby,”
And there I saw her, Queen of Love,
My iPhone held with woolen glove.
Her fingers danced light as can be
As she stole my identity.
I called out “Venus, I am Joe!”
She shrugged as if to say “I know.”
Then she shot me in the face
With majestic and transcendent grace.
As I descended to the dead
Her visage filled what was left of my head.
And on that dark and stormy night
When Venus’s left hand touched my right…
That hand which held the fated gun
Which well-ensured my life was done…
And whence the chill, grim wind had blown
I learned the downside of testosterone.
Filed under Poems
A dozen roses can show your love
If flowers are what your love adores
But if you send a Rose Tico
You might accidentally kill Star Wars.
Filed under Poems
