Poems

These are the fucking people our father couldn't stand

the part of our population with demented, warped minds

and eyes of werewolves dying while becoming simian again

These are the goddamned people who should be summarily shot

once and for all ridding our planet of their Neanderthalic evolvement

making room for better human beings to populate our precious Earth

These are the one out of every two people caught in arrogant ignorance

unable to accept the scientific explanation for ourselves and our existence

which lifts us into perfect realms of loving equanimity and all for oneness

These are the sons-of-bitches and bitches' claiming to know what truth is

while accepting a 2000-year-old belief system now proven to be 100% false

and of course, failing miserably as ass fucking, cock sucking, lying hypocrites

These are the coldhearted and cruel Homo-sapiens we can never get away from

they live next door and down the street, they walk beside us in our daily routines

gripped like Gollum's by a perverted animalistic need to be separated and alone

These are the stupid, poor bastards and fools our father kept running away from

to once and forever rid himself of their stifling, stuck in-the-box closemindedness

these are the fucked-up people of Trump and Musk, the minion hordes of MAGA

The Lilly twins, one kissed by a bug, one with a bum ticker

Karma's a bitch and death is the penultimate ass-kicker

But neither twin bowed out as a bent-over arse-licker

Sam Kinison's bashed up brains, still alive and talking

Julian Sands alone on a hike, death getting lost when walking

Anton Yelchin driving to town, got out to go open his gate

David Carradine chasing a fetish, choked dead for a masturbate

Robin Williams the megastar, said hello to a hangman's rope

Elvis Presley king of all pop, keeled over while pooping his dope

Earnest Hemmingway near his wits end, takes pellets to the face

Amy Winehouse pushing her limits, got dead by her last batch of H

To be remembered seems to be

A part of our anatomy

To die and then to be well missed

And thus in death to still exist

Our father said to miss him well

A cinch as far as I can tell

To live and keep alive with love

Our forebears in the stars above

So nice to see your poems again 

Fine words from deep inside your mind

A poetry which seems to me

A rare a very special kind

So nice to know you're back on track

Writing about the way you feel

It is the best part of my day

Consoling as a home-cooked meal

That's right!

Double barrel between the eyes

there is no God, there isn't

That's true!

What you said before to what I said

'tis now no more unpleasant

That's two!

The Lilly twins are standing tall

strong here in atheistic presence

I'm open

the length and breadth of my human mindfulness

greater than or equal to

the width and depth of all the known Universe

I'm closed

the pitiful putridity of my animalistic ignorance

less than or equal to

the worn and torn stench of a leaky ostomy bag

I'm baby talking

the joyful and playful cooing of my giddy gibberish

greater than or equal to

the sweet and affectionate sound of her cute retorts

I'm loved

the disappointed and resentful echo of death's agony

less than or equal to

the warm and kindhearted gifts of a life fully lived

I'm floating

the calm and sleepy feeling of completely letting go

greater than or equal to

the dark and dreamy emptiness of infinite unconsciousness

My life's passing in front of me

no flashing, more the steady pulsing

of a grainy, unfinished sightseer

snuffing memories 'pon pitch black

My twin brother Marshall once joked

Mitchell more funny than me

It makes me crack up to this day

And fills my old sad heart with glee

My younger twin brother once joshed

Mitchell more funny than me

It makes me recall with a smile

His last Baloo Bear jamboree

There is no god

God is not real

It's all a fraud

A backroom deal

There is no god

God has no plan

It's all made up

A bogeyman

There is no god

God is a lie

It's all a farce

Pie in the sky

There is no god

God has no plan

It's make-believe

As Peter Pan

I was addicted to orgasm for most of my life

Tortured by an unfillable black hole of worthlessness

Somewhere along the way the wiring in my brain got crossed

Putting me in a constant yo-yo state of mirthlessness

I was dependent on jerking off from an early age

Hooked on the transcendental stimulus of the big O

Somewhere along the way my on-and-off switch got frazzled

Leaving me in a place of never being in the know

I was strung out on self-stimulation for a lifetime

Caught in a sadomasochistic pleasure trap of pain

Somewhere along the way I went missing in a wet dream

Consuming me like tears lost in an everlasting rain

Here we are still with the living

Still thinking and taking in air

Old men hanging on for dear life

With others around who still care

Here we are still on the planet

Still loving and trying to thrive

Life forms growing old and infirm

With do-or-die wills to survive