I'll take s'more cheese, please
And drink your latest whine
Jake poetic juices
Make a cracking place to dine!
Poems
When I find that magnificent emotional place again
where a glorious feeling of overpowering, victorious love
crashes head-on into my tender and lonely human longing,
where justice breaks each solstice with purity and goodness
where planet bending care soars as the warmhearted light of day
then, I'll go to said spot and stay joyfully on such mark
weeping ecstatically as the mighty, trembling oak
in jubilant hopes of earthlings living in splendor!
No more whining, we're okay, all 'tis well!
I release complaint, lose my personal hell
The more I face the gloom,
the less pity 'pon my room
do not for my own despair,
I simply seek grateful flair
I'm throwing heartfelt stones
With earnestness that hurts
Breaking brittle shackles
On lucent just deserts
Let's build a stout glasshouse
On truthfulness well-heeled
Turning new leaves over
With kisses sweetly sealed
In the inevitable, cloaked face of the Reaper's scythe
we all do whatever necessary to save our own skins
jump from world trade centers, escape a searing fire,
or throw lottery stones into a face of forgetting twin!
Looking on the bright side
A point of path-forged wins
Filled with buoyant brass bands
No teeny violins
Letting all remorse go
A symphony of grins
Free from the anguished stings
Of weeny violins
I'm already broken by it all
Bob Dylan's life story floats like root beer
sweet and delicious yet unbreathable
like our father it choked me, so I turned it off
Watching pirate style free online
I couldn't get past Bob meeting Joan
they were young, him still unknown
and she already a star, but
I had nothing to tear for
no children, no family, no span
I'm a devoid human failure fragile as a glass giraffe
and I already know what happened to Bob
I've seen his life pass in real time
as mine has gone by for naught
and I'm already with the roots
I'm already drowned in fear
Bitten by a kissing bug in Puerto Escondido, Mexico
I saw the little bugger in my room
but don't remember if after or before the attack
yet unknown to my gringo eyes, I didn't recognize the insect then
Apropos for the horny old bastard which 'tis me
to be killed by an unwanted kiss
now, 15 years later, megacolon joins the melancholy
her symptoms are my massage, and sepsis shall be my doom
Let them out, set them free
All the demons inside
Seek the eye of the storm
There is no place to hide
Air it out, let it go
All the longing you feel
Find the truth in the fact
There is no better deal
My humanity 'tis devoid
worthless, powerless
rancid, like rotten bananas
putrid but fruitless
My art 'tis debauched
unworthy, meaningless
sickly, like stale root beer
creamy yet soured
