A few poems I wrote...say of them what you will

Because I could not stop for Death
I avoided him all the same
So every time I heard His name
I blushed with guilty shame.

The dreams and goals of all the youth
hath fallen to decay
No matter how much you cry or pray
We're damned another day.

So abandon all hope, ye simple fools,
We're coming to an end.
Thy broken hearts shall never mend
Even if you date her friend.

Humanity's a funny thing
Once you start to think of it.
Most society is most unfit,
so why don't they just quit?


Take me in thy warm embrace
Free me from this dismal place
Joy, bliss, happiness, love and grace
Ecstasy radiating from thy face.
No matter the time nor the space
That separates, my heart shall race
when the thought of you, O delicate lace,
invades my mind, leaving no trace
of other thoughts. If such be the case,
that I hasten your heart's own pace,
that then be all the praise
need I ever all my day
bliss emanating in rays,
changing men and perhaps their ways:
gentler, like sheep that graze
wiser, conquering Daedulus's maze
kinder, ending violent frays
and simpler, morals shant decay.
Would these be tasks at last accomplished
Granted then are all my wishes
Need I not those scores of riches,
truffles, cars, favors from princes.
Only one thing commands my heart
That thing, my dear, thou certainly art.


Live your life from one day
to the next. Then you may
go and try again. The sins of
your fathers and their fathers
before conspire to concoct
your routine. Rinse lather
repeat, rinse lather repeat
Keep the world ever so
tidy and neat despite
what we've been told
of chaos of old:
This isn't how the world beats.
With thy amibition and
compassion hard to direct
the most capricious of course,
Sped off on thy horses
indluging thy wishes
futility in riches.
Think not of the common
fate reserved for all
death, eternal
So be brave, young knave.
For whilst they scream and whilst they rave
Thou shalt achieve that which you crave.


What is writing?
A series of coor
dinated muscle move
ments and electric im
pulses acting through mere
utensil comprised of but
wood, plastics, staining
a sheet of average
lined paper. A graphic
representation and
replication of vibra
tions of larnyx from
air forced through
then received in pho
nemes by the ear. Yet
what magic in use
unconsciously that makes
each sentence so unique.
Writing puts down the
words we all speak
so meaning we may
later seek.