I’m young and very beautiful
As you can clearly see,
And so I guess you’re losing sleep
So oft you think of me?
…
It’s true that you are beautiful,
It’s true that you are young,
But I think of you as often
As the flavor of my tongue.
Tag Archives: Postaday
When You’re Not Sure Who To Offend…
At the 5K Run for white power
People called me “Hitler” to my face.
I disagreed with them, explaining
“Unlike Hitler, I can finish a race.”
Filed under Poems
Bless Me Son, For I Done Sinned
A while ago I wrote a poem
About how to be your own son.
Recently, through Jesus,
I wrote another one:
If you are a grandfather
Of your son’s male offspring
I’m happy to report that you
Can do an exciting thing…
If your son joins the clergy
As a Presbyterian
And you go to his church
Your grandkid is your Father’s son.
Filed under Poems
The Givers Of Up
When you’re dead but your body won’t let you be
When you’re closed but the sign says you’re open
When you’re trying to sleep in the light and the heat
And can’t cope with how well you’re coping
It might be you’re sideways and falling
To the ground that you already touch
And it could be you feel unwelcome
In a world that adores you too much
And it could be you suffer from comfort
All alone in a room filled with you
But I have to ask why you would stay closed and die
How you feel okay to just sleep through the day
How you admit defeat to the ground at your feet
When your choices define what is true
Filed under Poems
How Dare I?
I don’t think it’s funny
And I don’t think it’s strange
To have autistic teenagers
Opposing climate change.
I find it quite the opposite,
A much welcomed relief
To show that neurotypicals
Need not hold their belief.
Filed under Poems
This Problem Doesn’t Happen For Board Game Dates
I asked her out to eat with me
At Chez Insertnamehere.
It was a place with candlelight
And very expensive beer.
After our romantic dinner
Conversation hit a lull.
She said “Let’s have dinner again,”
But, alas, I was already full.
Filed under Poems
The Longest Road
I travel by the road at dawn,
The sunrise at my back,
Unaware in blissful youth
Of all the things I lack.
When day has broken, I press on
In a cardinal direction,
Unaware that I’m unguided
Save by pleasure and affection.
By noon I sweat and labor on
Beneath the sun I know,
Still the same despite the fact
It has a harsher glow.
Beyond that point I cannot see,
The sun filling my eyes,
And do not know that all I know
Is naught but youthful lies.
Then I lie down to rest myself
After the sun has gone
And wait until the sun returns
To blindly carry on.
What few have seen when journeying
Beneath the gold sun’s light
Is how the road’s a circle
Sloping gently to the right,
Still fewer will discover
(And even fewer learn)
Is whether we are blind or wise
When, to dawn, we must return.
Filed under Poems
