What flies higher and faster than an eagle;
Moves in underwater distances greater than a whale,
And quicker than a shark;
On land, makes the chetah look immobile;
Can burrow deeper, and more effectively than a mole;
Is more powerful than elephant, rhino;
Has a higher perspective than a giraffe;
Presents with more audacity than a monkey;
Yet has the discerning powers of a gnat,
And the future longevity of a fruit fly?

I'm not a somebody
You would know.
I'm a nobody, really.
And, as a nobody,
I don't win or lose,
Cause nobody does a **** thing.
I didn't arrive or leave,
Thus nobody is here.
Nobody says anything.
Nobody was accused, so,
Nobody admits to the act.
Nobody was saved.
Nobody deserved it more,
Or less.
Nobody spoke up,
Yet nobody would shut up,
So, nobody was chosen.
Nobody wants to go,
Yet nobody desires to stay.
Nobody was blamed,
And nobody got the credit.
And,
While it's common knowledge
That everybody is born,
We would be wise to remember,
Nobody gets out alive.

The omnipotent
Doesn’t lead seminars.
The Universe is real.
Believe.

Many times in my past,
My take on life
Was a puzzling grasp
Of truths and lies.

In my mind,
In my heart,
I thought I was middling smart.
That's what I've depended on,
Yet I was phished by the con.

It comes from the side
Of your weakest eye,
While you think you're helping
This other guy.

The hit is done with such aplomb.
That's the beauty of the con.

I'm still as smart as I thought I was,
But wiser now,
Just because,
I was the victim of a scam.
With reticence now,
I'm the lesser man.

He was slick;
I was tricked
When I let my guard slip
By a con's phishing trip.
But never again.
I promise this.

Whew!
Glad I live here,
And not there.

He's senile, incoherent,
Out of shape,
Out of date.
He tips forward
Cause he blows back wind,
And when he mugs
He waddles his chin.
He smiles and squints
Those beady swine eyes,
Above his lantern-like
Satanic grin.
And it's never about you,
When it's always about him.

Flies follow his brimstone smell,
Like sulphur leaked
From the gates of hell.
The vermin covet
His dependable fill
From a shart attack
While he's standing still.

He's a fake from the toe lifts,
That stop forward tipping;
As fake as orange highlights,
And his mental slippings,
He's glued a fake coif of  fluff,
And, if that's still not enough,
He spews lies,
Framed by his wee hands flailing,
His fetid breath exhaling,
Pouty lips wailing,
And his fat *** trailing
Far behind the Leader.

In my 20's
In the 70's
I was long in hair,
Donned vests and jeans,
From Goodwill Stores.
But I spent hard cash
On calf-high boots,
Raven black platforms.

Now in my 70's
In these 20's,
They threw me a party.

Hello 70's.
You Are Invited
To a 70's Party.
Groovy attire welcome.

Was I obliged.
Soon compelled.
Nearly obsessed.

Then the epiphany.
The Bard,
Reminds this walking shadow
In the long, gray-haired rented wig.

I rack my mind from dusk til dawn
Filtering through a lifetime of memories
Some incredible, some dreadful
Some bring joy and belly busting laughter
Others bring a river of unending tears and pain
Where did I go wrong?
I surrendered every breath, every beat of this heart.
I freely sacrificed my soul
My every atom fully to the love of my life
My miracle, my reason for living
My every dream come true
My daughter
All I am I give her
All I know I teach her
All my heart belongs to her
At some crossing I took the wrong path
I let her down, I broke her heart unintentionally
Now stuck in this deep dark forest of my mind lost, deep in the weeds of this cruel existence.
Her hand slipped out of mine, I’m stumbling, I’m blind and falling over my own feet.
Searching through the darkness for eternity unable to find her.
She was stolen from me
Evil of social freedom and lies of this ugly reality have snatched her out of my arms.
What is left of her I don’t recognize
Someone with only distain for her mother
Blame is now my hell
Contempt surrounds me and envelopes the love that once filled my being
Bitter taste of disappointment stains every sustenance
No rest, no salvation
My mind is my nemesis
No chance of redemption
No matter the length of my penance
Eternally pleading for her to return, persist in my directive
Screaming and wailing to god for one sign of love, one smile from her, one small glimmer of hope. To be left alone in my darkness, praying until my voice ceases to exist.

The enemy occupies a familiar battleround,
And the reduction begins,
First by attrition,
Then like waddling ducks on my lawn,
After the swirling storm.
A great desolation
Is ****** to the centre of the funnel;
And within earshot
Off the guilty,
They fall over the cliff,
In a flutter of molted feathers.