Goblin Poem

A world so dark

With black hearts

The goblins dwell

They steal and rob

A violent mob

It’s what goblins are

Deep down in caves

They capture slaves

Filthy goblin hordes

But two were born

To each other sworn

A pair of goblin brothers

They did not fit in

They had love within

For their goblin brother

Yet the goblin town

Sought to take them down

Destroy the goblin brothers

Live on

A flag raised high fluttering in the wind calls

And begs that some defend its colors

Far from the theaters and shopping malls

Men and women support each other

And the heat of desert sand or jungle rain

Stinging the souls of those who answered

So many would run, but our heroes remain

Enemies jeering, our soldiers undeterred

Explosions and bullets a tornado of death

Seeking to extinguish the fire in our lives

That monster of war stole some of their breath

Some of our heroes sacrificed and died

Yet they live in our hearts and in our minds

We cannot forget that they lived for us

Never let go of the love that binds

Though all flesh melts, bones turn to dust

Eli birthday poem

For 15 years you’ve grown

Stronger will and stronger bones

And now so tall and lean

You’re my reflection I’m seeing

So I wish the best for you

Though you don’t need to fill my shoes

For you’ll be your own man

And I’ll support you all I can

And try to teach you to thrive

To celebrate every day of life

I trust that one day you’ll see

You’ll be a greater man than me

Do Art

I love this. And I love Vonnegut. I’m obsessed with Slaughter House 5. I also fully embrace what he is saying here. I write because I love it and because it makes me feel better. It helps me manage emotions and make sense of thoughts. It helps me process relationships and disappointments. It adds to my spirit and I do it because I love it. Because art has value. If one day it makes me money then swell, but even if it does not, I will do it because it is beautiful and good for the soul. Writing is my favorite art and I will write until I am out of things to write about. At that point I may as well die for I prefer death to life without art. Cheers.

An Election Day poem

The sky is falling

The sky is falling

They scream while polls are closing

Vote this way or that way

It’s our way or the highway

We know what’s best they say

Yet this isn’t anything new

It’s normal when choices are few

And you must choose one or two

Tears of joy and tears of sorrow

Flowing freely on the morrow

Our misery so thorough

But the result is only natural

When we can’t find what is factual

While lies flow from the capitol

But fear not my worried friends

For when this wretched empire ends

Our souls we can finally mend