Poems

I mustn't forget I'm nearing my ends

undoubtably I'll soon find death year

Since I'm needing to be remembered

I'll render mystic science truths here

We scribble in so many words

Mementos on a minstrel's mind

Each coinage flying free as birds

Discharging droppings duly signed

We author categorically

Convictions in a rimester's root

Each sonnet metaphorically

Remaining for one last salute

We write down verses in the now

Reflections of the poet's past

Each musing like a timeless vow

Suspending vers libres half-mast

I pledge devotion

To the earth

Of the elongating big bang universe

And to provable fact

For which it dwells

One cosmos under truth

Undeniable, with critical

thinking for all

Modern-day poems will patch up the gaps

tween the sciences of 2000BC and 2000AD

human mysticism shall be allowed to stay,

every theology pre-Copernicus replastered

Make no mistake, listening well

I'm calling from beyond the veil!

I crossed over, still here I'm back

see me waving my rhyming cap?

So, if I'm gone yet still harp hello

I may too be an immortal fellow!

Querying now, from 'neath grave

did you write any poetries today?

We never hit the mother load

Of passion turned to treasure trove

Our fervor crushed like mother clove

In luring boyhood pots of gold

We never rode the gravy trains

Of fealty felt in me-too lanes

Our purpose gummed like blackstrap stains

In barren tracts of sugar canes

We found at last our field of dreams

The holy grail in island streams

Our life force bursting at the seams

In saving shafts of searchlight beams

I diddled I dawdled, I piddled I paddled

sit here now 'pon weak-minded saddle

I hemmed I hawed with a dipsy doodle

wasting the potential inside my noodle

We're doing it now, for it's never too late

To lift ourselves up, and to fondle our fate

We did what we did, and we made our own beds

With pure focused light in our poetic heads

Twin one to twin two

Glad we both made it through

We grew and we grew

To the truth we both knew

Oh, how deeply I weep over lamenting regret!

never having my cue ball in sight of the eight,

not once taking aim 'pon pure, focused might

to pocket one goal with crisp, powerful strike!

I was born first

Two minutes ahead

Laugh at my hearse

When twin one is dead

Death returns us to the drawing board

To ground zero of becomingness

No brain no spine no limbs no body

At the zero hour of nothingness

Death returns us to the molecules

To particles of inexistence

No mind no thoughts no sense no motion

At the big bang's pièce de résistance