I have made a list
Of things to forget
I have not a wish
To repay these debts
Or be reminded
Of time that was spent
Together yet divided
No plan to repent
For immoral sins
To look over my
Regrets, nor take a spin
At the start and retry
To untie the wrongs
Inflicted by you
Feelings which you long
To have me undo
I just want a list
That will get me to
The end of the gist
A new point of view
That won’t include you
But here is the twist
Every time I inspect
My forget you sheet
I begin to reflect
On what I’d delete
Now an unfortunate
Reminding portrait
Of all the things I want to forget

She says to me

These boys have no game

She shows me their text messages

And ridicules them

Really tearing them down

She wants me to flirt with her

Egging me on

Desperate for the

Attention

She reeks of it

She is 6" heeled shoes

She is a tight mini skirt

She is taunting eyes

Telling me to play her game

She is hot water

And cold showers

She is a tigress

A man eater

All in a young petite frame

I am just a big old ape

Trying to survive day to day

And I don't have time

To flirt

Climb aboard the Paper Airplane Express
Let’s fly to far away destinations
Where we land is random, it can’t be guessed
We have no preconceived expectations

Wings hand crafted by tiny artisans
Powered by adolescent dreams that ignite
Bright eyed smiles, marking the serene occasion
Of each and every planes inaugural flight

Hop aboard the Paper Airplane Express
No two planes are alike, each is unique
And not every flight is a success
But we can re-launch after a simple tweak

As our pilots aren’t allowed to play with matches
To date none of our planes have caught on fire
Though we have seen quite a few crashes
And apparently that little pyro bobby just made me a liar

We are folding paper airplanes
Wanting to soar away from it
Stopping the fanning of the flames
Flying out of this neck high ****

We’re pirates of newspaper boats
Climbing aboard, away from it all
Above the **** we try and float
Reaching land or go over the falls

We’re making origami napkins
Something to clean up the mess
When the next shitastrophe happens
With more soiled diaper regrets

We are folding paper airplanes
Trying to ascend above it
Desperate attempts not in vain
Or drown in our own excrement

People believe evil is the great adversary of man
That evil is the actions conducted after sin's temptation
Or horrifying deeds done in the name of something unholy

What is evil?
Evil is a marshmallow that falls from your stick into the fire's ashes
Evil is finding a hole in your favorite sock
Evil is getting a paper cut on your tongue from licking an envelope
Evil is getting splashed by a passing car in winter
Wet, cold and soaked to the bone

Evil is having your dolly broken from childhood antics
Evil is getting beans in your burrito when you ordered without
Evil is watching time speed up as you get older
Evil is watching the clock slow down when you want to leave at 4:00
Time is a *****

Evil is a child's balloon popping
Evil is ice cream and they are all out of sprinkles
Evil is turning on the light switch and the bulb doesn't work
Evil is a red light
Satan lives at intersections

Evil is getting homework that cuts into  your playtime
Evil is watching your dad make himself a PB&J; sandwich, eat it in front of you and doesn't offer to make you one
Evil is being told you have to go to bed early
Evil is when you run out of ideas

*(I wrote this poem with the help of my daughter Casey)

I can't seem to get my head on right
But for a moment my mind, a beacon of light

I could see, think and expound truths clearly
Thoughts turned to words once passed through me

But I have become a dim light bulb
No matter how much amps or volts I gulp

Even if I hammer this desk with my head
Does no good, the hamster and wheel are dead

However, I will not allow myself to be undone
I must again alight my mind like a sun

I'll make a gasoline and Vaseline mixture
Something along the line of ****** I'll procure

Add the concoction to the end of a Q-tip
Let it soak for more than a sip

Light it on fire by striking a match
And to set ablaze my brain thatch

Ram the flame deep into my ear
Nothing to lose, nothing to fear

I must do this before I become a vegetable
Point in case
I can't think of anything that rhymes with vegetable
Nothing that isn't completely nonsensical

Poets are writers of infinite truths
Shamanistic travelers exposing fear
Paper and pen prophets rousing the obtuse
Quasi-harbingers of new frontiers

Politicians and their paid speechwriters
Lifetime career prostitutes of lies
Cyrano de Bergerac shysters
Writing pledges they will deny

Poetic outlaws of verse redefining
Societal boundaries of acceptance
Brigands of rhyme rocking the boat
Poems with intended disturbance

Every society needs outlaws
Rebuff the system
Fight back
Or
Withdraw