Three Words Day

He asked her. She said “Yes, I will” And that day, started down a path The doctor told her “It’s a girl” The greatest love she’d ever have Her husband said, “I’ve met someone” And then he up and moved away Her grown girl went abroad for good “I love you,” — all that she … Continue reading "Three Words Day"

Wendell

Wendell, wander while you can Where the windy highway wends Find a road you’ve never seen, and Follow, till your journey ends. Wendell, why this┬ánoisome toil, Wearing down your weary brow? Seek no more your heart to spoil, and Fly, while time will still allow. Wendell, there’s no going back What remains is still ahead; … Continue reading "Wendell"

Snippet

He made time for his children (and extra time) but found other fathers better loved who were never there at all. So he saw that time is indeed like money: the more of it that's printed, the more devalued it becomes.

Beyond Compare

I don’t engage in fallacies Or fail to say what’s true; I’m not some slavish partisan I’m not at ALL like you. I’m not a man of certainty I’m not one to condemn; I do not judge, so can’t be judged I’m not at ALL like them. When I’m at home, the curtains down, This … Continue reading "Beyond Compare"

Miss Andrist

Miss Andrist isn’t famous, You rarely hear her name: She’s an accomplished general In the general field of blame. And there Miss Andrist goes to fight A war between the states; She goes to kill the infidel While its herself she hates.

Cinema of Play

This began when we began And many times we came To sit here in the cool, cool dark And light our secret flame I loved you with adventure With action and romance And in this very place we sat Whenever we’d the chance. This place is boarded up now, Maybe they’ll renovate: Like you and … Continue reading "Cinema of Play"

If You Don’t Know, I Can’t Explain It

He asked me why someone like me Would waste my time on poetry When anything I had to say I could just say the normal way As blind men cannot see the light As ostriches cannot take flight So the prosaic cannot know Why you or me is wired so.

Tristis Veritatem

And once again, we come to see The fount of human tragedy — The pride that makes us want to be The gods of our society.