Poems

Never to be heard from again

sound like a parting of friend

yet mean truth strike a chord

as surely this must be an end

Have my name in the Wikipedia

searched same as a Hemingway

as well quoted as a Shakespeare

all dead one's like Viginia Woolf

Emily Dickinson Mary Shelley's

as Ayn Rand or James Baldwin!

Even a dead rat cut in half can grow flowers

given time and a sharp dose of the weathers

but a dead rat cut in half can't return a maze

yet flowers newly returned made him better

I got a blank on Buddha's pyramid!

I flunked out in Psychology's class

Never too late will be now's motto!

all else 'tis but shadowing my past

All that pain expression had to go somewhere,

as an implosion sucked in my puffed-up chest 

Pushed out 'pon ethers of verbally destructive,

'tis vehemently ugly hate for my own familiar

There's a thorn in my side

That never stops chafing

A hole dark and daunting

As stark madness raving

My thorn seeks assuagement

In a place who knows where

Incomplete and halfway

Never quite getting there

There's a thorn in my side

That just keeps on aching

A sore deep and wounding

As bleeding hearts breaking

I'm a temporary man with a temporary thought

wearing temporary suits temporarily I had saw,

I'm live camouflage in temporary human being,

oh, I'm a temporary thing, according to the law!

I'm 'pon the US Wait-n-Sea!

improvise my ship doth not 

hear a life shall wait for me

time redeeming all but lost!

It's a temporary life

with a temporary time

It's a temporary poem

with a temporary rhyme

It's a temporary ride

with a temporary spin

It's a temporary walk

with a temporary grin

It's a temporary road

with a temporary bend

It's a temporary run

with a temporary friend

I got caught in the attachments of the world

poor relative judgment became my moniker,

now I've let it all go and made new mantras

ordinary balance end analogous awareness

No one is more equal

Nor less faultlessly built

We're but all broken bits

Of the same mortal quilt

No one is less worthy

Nor more perfectly made

We're but all damaged goods

Of defective low-grade 

No one is less human

No more flawlessly blest

We're but all on the blink

Of a life soon at rest

Yes, and what we've done with our twin lives,

'tis a movie in the can exploring rise and falls

Whilst what we're doing here in our late lives

'tis proof gentle man, we're now standing tall!