Poems

I like that 'tears in the rain' scene

from the first Blade Runner movie,

when the replicant killer Roy Batty

ends his eloquent, ad-libbed monologue

with a sweet and simple, "...time to die."

When the boy cub plays with her tail

pounces joyfully, attacking her chin

a more rapturous moment on Earth

nor in heaven has ever there been.

Wow, siempre amigo, yes

I'm now the newly evolved

scientific part of my brain.

An atom based

molecular and cellular

earthbound being.

Containing reason, logic

hypothesis, fact.

Dispelling all Gods

Devils, heavens and hell.

Caring, kindred spirits, of Earthly eons grown

rally to the forebrain, where every wisdom's known

borne from loving gentleness, enabled perfectly to see

my third-eyed human kindness grants me immortality 

I challenge you to a poem battle,

now saddle up and slay me.

Inspired thoughts turned into verses,

glimpse the mightiness within thee.

What will sure become us,

soil and dust maintained?

"And why is that a question?"

quoth Shakespeare in refrain.

If brains are of the matter

then of mass I truly sing

let every diseased feather

play a joyful, cosmic thing!

I am the fire, the light energy and bright matter.

I am a spark, a burning ember of temporary flame. 

That sun hath spat this Earth, and this Earth hath spat me, and I am these fifteen seconds of hot sex in those billions of years now gone ablaze.

I am crackling carbon, dimming, ashen dust.

Nothing less is in me, nothing more around or about me.

My reflection is smoke and mirror.

I'm the non-knowing pile of hot, then cooled to cinder rock.  

Another mighty Oak, with a freshly blessed babe

joyously intended as the best of miracles made

Yes the newborn boy has her, and she's got him

now let the annual ring's of a lifetime begin!

The materials of a truck come from the Earth

same as those built inside each human birth

An electronic brain, in the truck's engine makes it go

and gunky are the minds of men's souped-up egos!

Soap box professor on the corner of

Harmony Court and St. Jude Avenue

emoting truthful realities of a good book

Yea, the highest of Homo-sapient virtues

the very best of all human characteristics

preached from Freud's Psychology of Love

Bubba Cunt, the dear, sweet child 

of Forrest Gump and Buford Blue

became a cocksucker down New Orleans way

in a shitty whorehouse run by your ugly mama

All human pain pours like a heavy Tuscan rain

upon rooves of red, bleached-white, barrel clay tile

gushing fretfully over blocked gutters and rusty spouts 

as the suffering tears of a thousand good listeners