Poems

I'm a goner, for sure, although not quite gone yet

Who can count his loved ones on one old wrinkled hand

Still alive but dead to a double-crossed daughter

With time slipping away in my hourglass of sand

I'm a goner, indeed, with one foot in the grave

Who can count the years left on ten fingers or less

Still breathing but dead to a brother and sister

For bad deeds and dire faults mine alone I confess

I'm a goner, alright, although not quite done yet

Who can count lucky stars without shame or chagrin

Still awake and at peace with all slips of the past

With good luck on our side ever onward my twin!

We all want to go back

To those places in time

Where the best memories

Linger sweetly sublime

We all want to return

To those struggles in life

Where the worst drudgeries

Tarry sharp as a knife

We all want to reflect

On those moments in turn

Where the joie de vivre

Burgeons red as the fern

This is bad, this is ugly

This is what they want to hear

This is it, this precisely

Giving in to hate and fear

This is sad, this is lonely 

This is what they came to see

This is it, this exactly

Thinking we will disagree

This is mad, this is telling 

This is what they want to find

This is it, this expressly

Leaving love and hope behind

Astigmatism fog, like a starving hog, in a shrouded bog, ravenous and murderous

astigmatism fog, like rabid dogs, assassin pirate's grog, dangerous and poisonous!

My mind is playing tricks on me

Making me think that I'm at war

One callous carping stink eye stare

How hot blood boils in every pore!

My mind is playing tricks on me

Shanghaiing my serenity

One snide and disrespectful word

How mad marches obscenity!

My mind is playing tricks on me

Telling me that there can be no peace

One riled and reckless battle cry

How sad the duels that never cease!

I was broken

Not all the way

More like a tooth

Chipped by decay

I was broken

But not in two

More like a vow

Long overdue

I was broken

Not all the time

More like a glass

Dirtied by grime

I was broken

But not in half

More like a bone

That lost its laugh

We are orbiting, orbiting

And we are rushing, rushing on

We are striving, striving, striving

Bare tiny beasties quickly gone

We are hurtling, hurtling

And we are spinning, spinning too

We are dying, dying, dying

Mere short-lived mortals passing through

We are circling, circling

And we are speeding, speeding by

We are dreaming, dreaming, dreaming

Brief noble bipeds aiming high

Try to leave the world a little better

Not just for your loved ones but for others

Try to make the world a bit more easeful

For all future fathers and their mothers

Try to see the truth in facts and science

Not in untrue myths and misconceptions

Try to come to terms with your destruction

For death is nothingness no exceptions

Try to let your actions do the talking

Not only for yourself but for mankind

Try to see the goodness in all people

For peace on earth is ours if so inclined

We all deserve one chance at life

To love and learn a thing or two

Life can be short and so unfair

Some get more time than others do

We all deserve one shot at life

To win and lose and roll the dice

Life can be cruel and so unkind

Some turn out mean and others nice

We all deserve one turn at life

To play and fight and let things go

Life can be glad and so sublime

Some have no clue and others know

We had our entire lives ahead of us

Our pictures as mint as Dorian Gray

But somehow our genes got the best of us

And our potential as twins got away

We had our entire lives ahead of us

Our futures as bright as binary stars

But somehow our flaws got ahold of us

And our misjudgments left so many scars

We had our entire lives ahead of us

Our prospects as vast as the deep blue sea

But somehow our dreams got the worst of us

And our naivete would not let them be

One of the Van Arsdale twins died

Dick not Tom he was eighty-one

He had heart and kidney failure

But still had a wonderful run

I wonder how Tom is doing

What it feels like to lose your twin

They spent their whole lives together

But one must take death on the chin

They were true NBA legends

The first twins to play in the club

They lived a hoop dream fairy tale

Though playing at times as a scrub

Later in life they were artists

Oil painting the key to their bliss

When Dick held up two joined fingers

And said with a wink, "We're like this."

The word God's obsolete, like Mary Poppins's chimney sweep,

The noun God's purely fiction, as is unscientific contradiction

The verb God's what's heretical, the Holy Grail of nonsensical

The object God's out of style, like a burned witch's Salem trial,

The old God Myth's are things of the past, and they won't last!