i know you're searching
for a savior
but you're just another
ship captain and i'm
just another lighthouse
flashing you towards
the rocks
attention only makes
me more distant
at night i suffocate dreams
of you with a pillow
until i lie beside the
cadaver of our love
wrap it's cold,
dead hands
around my neck
like a scarf in
this winter hell
last i checked the
weather report
promised no sun
a god told me  
i'll sleep like the dead
when i live
like them too.

Hail to Thee, Immortal Three
Knowledge we sing on laud
Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates
Philosophy, to be human awed
Teach through time, consciously
Nod not, what others fraud

Socrates taught, Divine Being
God not of brutal Athens’ passions
Entity of Beauty, Truth Seeing
Goodness unseen in day’s fashions
Soul for unalloyed agreeing
Lessons humanities’ compassion

Talk eternal justice, everlasting life
Socrates’ Sovereign Right of Reason
Clearly mind deceived sense’s strife
Invincible perfection be God’s season
Thus, our key to knowledge ever rife
Priests who find this, absolute treason

No church or Socratic school
A barefoot man roamed to teach
Socrates mocked for looking a fool
His speech not one to simply preach
Plato witnesses a martyr’s drool
Cruel hemlock, words did so breach

Handsome aristocratic youth Plato
Followed Socrates’ Eternal Wisdom
But soon to find his own credo
In Medara to find Euclid and freedom
Egyptian geometry to provide dado
To Plato life, expression; not a system

Eternally an artist, Plato did develop
Philosophic circle in Academus groves
Bring Athens, world knowledge envelop
Discretions of sensations, be not oaths
What man may be, an animal jealous
Plato’s allegorical cave found in droves

As Plato once be Socrates’ disciple
So too, to Plato would Aristotle be
Passing comprehension archetypal
Successions of genius’ visions do see
Aristotle taking it step further, as vital
To science of hands-on discovery

And this is where we see a parting
Of two distinctly opposing philosophies
Plato being at odds, with science starting
Aristotle’s truth, finding no apologies
Things not happening by chance imparting
Frivolity of duopoly, dichotomy to Socrates

But a new era has surely now dawned
Science exploring an invisible atom
And the seen and unseen correspond
So to Aristotle’s, Plato’s, Socrates’ datum
Brilliant new philosophies have spawned
An abstract notion of conceived stratum

have avoided all attempts
neatly gift-wrapped box
no innocent bystander
my own shapeless crinkling

paper bags or newspapers
crunched around clumsy mechanics
a garage built go-cart racer
tie with shoelaces

rubber bands and bread twisties
bike wheels in back
forward red wagon wheel
reconverted down side shafts

coiling and wrenching
back to cab meeting
half a broomstick handle bar
tasseled dangly pom-poms

painted on sheet metal hood
1014 signifying day we met
skidding each other's hearts
last year’s soap-box derby

not a pretty package
but when you open up and see
marvelous flaming paints
spinning our memories

I hope you know
you are my burning desire
Shall we blast it one last time?
I’ll make those vroom-vroom sounds

Merging minds through confluence of time
Streaming into vastness of space
Piling on the eons we climb
Subjective to a human race

Evolution is nearer to nothing plasmatic
As brain tissue melts loosely away
Finding transformative signs galactic
A robotic mechanical sway

Electrodes and microbes in fervent fusions
Find waves upon air and streams
Static electricity combusts allusions
Eyes disintegrate, fried by laser beams

No ointment to existence as we are lard
The oil for machines to profit
Toil long and toil hard
As progressive adaptation won’t stop it

For the gravity of this juncture upon us
Climatic epoch in measure
As ethical questions confront us
What gains from the yield of treasure?

While sleeping in my bed
Rhymes escape my head.
I maunder them around
Then write them down
And publish them instead.

That is, those worth keeping
That I write while sleeping
That often turn out to be
Happily approved by me.
A poetic parrot peeping.

An internal rhyming thing.
Almost an eternal ping
That runs through my brain
There to sometimes remain
And bubble back upon rising.

Sometimes it wakes me up
And I brew myself a quick cup
Because at that time
In search of a rhyme
That goes with boxer pup or buttercup.

I haven’t made a dime from this
My middle-of-the-night muse’s kiss.
I just gleefully scribble
And sometimes I giggle
No matter it’s a hit or a miss.

Far be it from me to complain.
For so many poems remain
That turn out terrific
That I’m labelled prolific.
Either that, or poetically insane.

An étagère to hold silly whatnot
A mind adrift in trinkets somewhat
Its bits espied and soon forgot
Knickknack, gimcrack, and all lot

Finding herself so amazed
In menagerie on which she gazed
Simply lost and ever dazed
Novelty toys to which she raised

They dance for her, sparkling trifle
Hoarding gewgaw in which to rifle
A non-creation and mind to stifle
Complete with tiny tower Eiffel

These things to her do bring joy
For loss of hers was little boy
And though this sound ever coy
Replacing boy; nonsensical toy