Archive for January, 2013


His Daydream

I’m at work,
You’re still in bed.
And while you dream,
You’re in my head.
I wish that I could sleep in too,
Or at least stay there in bed with you.

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To Do

All I see existed before I thought my first real thought,
And now, to think, soon what I see could soon be rendered “not.”

The trees cut up for paper, fresh nukes to keep us hot,
While my mind runs like a river to a land that time forgot.

But I don’t long for long lost past,
Though curious just when time began,
I hope to sing a song to last,
And to hear its rhyme again.

Beauty springing from inside,
But with the outside internalized,
We quickly see a deep divide.

We let them “free” us all from nature, thinking we freed ourselves from harm,
We bought into glitzy architecture when we should have bought the farm.

Now our days are numbered, and though that’s nothing new,
We are far more encumbered by the list of things to do.

Save the forests and the trees,
And the fishes and the seas,
And the polar bears too please,
While you’re here.

Never mind wealth,
Forget your money
Laugh for good health, though nothing’s funny!
The current sea level is well above the pier.

Don’t cry,
Don’t shed a tear,
Warm salt water’s not scarce I fear,
Though the wolves and the honey bees may be.

It won’t be long until it’s us,
An endangered species- from iron to rust-
Because we failed to act on what we see.

As for all the beauty that’s nearby,
It could be gone soon…that’s no lie.

Sometimes I hate being right.

No truth will come until after the light.

Plans perceived as facts believed,

Rest easy,

Everything is being taken care of.

But, “What about what I want? What about what I need?”

My cries, the result of personal greed.

I’m selfish with myself and I don’t really care to share,

Treating you dirtier than Mr. Hankey’s underwear.

The season comes to get together,

But damn! I’m not trying to stay forever.

Three days isn’t long but the timing’s all wrong.

Day Two of The Twelve Days of Christmas always feels like Day Eleven.

I feel like being home alone,

You steadily screaming “Kevin!”

Day Three: Suffocated

Day Four: Bored

Day Five: Inebriated

Day Six: “LORD!”

“I don’t even believe in you, but I know my parents do,

And since your son was Jewish I know he can relate,

To a mother who lays on the guilt,

And a father who plans his fate.

Day Seven: Ready to go

Day Eight: Ready to blow.

Day Nine: It. Better. Not. Snow.

Day Ten: This has ruined my flow.

Day Eleven: Same as day two

Day Twelve: I can go back to being me. You can go back to being you.