Is your life really Living??
writing
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
Trust Yourself
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
Thunder
Thunder crashing loud
Shaking windows and my soul
Stirring me deeply
Buried Bones
When finished with a bone
A dog whishes no one to be shone,
So it is, that the bone be buried
Into a deep, dark, dank hole it is hurried
No one again will upon the bone gaze,
To the dog the bone is but a haze,
Still the bone hath existed.
Have you the help of holes enlisted?
Unsuspecting
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
