They said I would die
Before forty
My friends and
Their bets

Thought I would die
2014
When my world stopped

So glad I failed
To die as so much
I failed before

So glad to read you
And you and you

The Luck of the Irish isn't found in a stone
It isn't found in a Field of clover
Its not found in the Irish Sweepstake even
That is, not unless you're the one that wins
Its found in the twinkle of the eye , you know it
And we're all borm with the tongues of a poet.....Erin4Ever

Too good to be in love.
Too good to love just anyone
Somehow I'm the lucky one.

Shocked.
Surprised.
And even amazed.
That somehow I'm the lucky one.

Never thought I have the chance.
Or ever knew you was interested.
Then love is a mystery.
That's usually hard to solve.
Let alone describe.

I just know in this case.
Somehow I'm the lucky guy.
To have this  beautiful woman called mine.

She's a keeper.
She's a prize.
I feel as if I won the sweepstake.
When she entered into my life.

We met at a bar called Crossroads, just myself and I.
We didn't like each other much, yet we decided to buy.
Two glasses of whisky please, don't forget the paradox.
Which like our drinks, leaves us on the rocks.

The saloon doors swing slightly, only to reveal.
Memories of before, when we could both feel.
Two more whiskies please, and don't forget the paradox.
Which like our drinks, leaves us on the rocks.

The hour is now late and I like you even less.
Well you're an incoherent, introspective mess.
Two more whiskies please, and this'll be our last.
Let's share a toast, a toast to our past.

Two fire exits alight, we've a decision to make.
I can't see beyond the doors, this twisted sweepstake.
Crossroads is now closing, only open for tonight.
We left together bloodied, choosing the future in our own right.

ever the amateur family entomologist

Upon texting her a picture
(countless moments ago
since October ninth)
unfamiliar delicate looking critter -
(seen inside the apartment many times),
she quickly identified crane fly
agilely affixed to lampshade.

I figuratively tip hat at Tipulidae
long legged dainty insect
poised to strike proboscis,
where adults buzzfeed on
nectar from flowers or other outdoor plants
unlike larvae whose diet
constitutes decaying wood and vegetation.

Said winged six-legged invertebrate
of the class Insecta
resembles a mosquito on steroids,
and can freak people out, crane flies
pose absolutely zero harm
to bipedal hominids i.e. **** sapiens.

Detriment to human beings
ought not serve as benchmark
to assess purposefulness regarding
all creatures large and small,
rhetorical question cometh your way:
how came man/woman kind
as arbitrary arbiter
determining which animal
and/or plant species
can claim their sweepstake
linkedin with world wide ecological web?

If assigned role of divine creator,
(atop egg shaped noggin of mine
thorn of crown yours truly would don)
dutifully, eagerly and immediately trumpet,
whereby naked ape relegated to dung heap
feasted upon courtesy voracious grubs
chief among them
the Alaskan Bull Worm.

Life, liberty and pursuit of happiness
in sync with inalienable rights
decreed toward all flora and fauna
except nasty horrible brute
loosing wanton cruelty upon planet
bajillion dollar bounty on her/his head
plus forced to eat Peruvian puff peppers,
which measures 16 million Scoville units

(this drake just joshing you)
if she/he violates trespassing code
compromising, jeopardizing, or yawping
indignities heaped against the existence
of any organism
(except haughty human beings)
entitled to live
upon oblate spheroid.

Invariably survival of the fittest
will decree dominance
of one or another living entity
unless robots take over the world.

Particularly, when voicing and/or
writing bon mots doth betake
chuckling clownlike me
rumbled stilled skin,
and e'en rouses
this mummified corpse
(asleep for bajillion years)
among sleepers awake,
where mine inside belly
doth pleasantly ache

jollity the best medicine
most thus spoke Zarathustra,
asper nonpareil persona
American radio broadcaster
Doctor Demento would attest,
one need not buy,
nor spend real or "FAKE"
money, yet brilliant come
back (as averred by
unnamed modest chap)
sweeter than New York cheesecake

moist definitely more
delectable than grubstake
jamming gobstopper with
yodels, ring dings,
or mouth size edible
chocolate candied drake,
a propensity for parrying
thrusts humorously recently
adopted, though occasionally
embarrass self,

and perhaps I might
momentarily even forsake
such wordplay, but
honing humorous turns
of phrases come roaring
back to partake, and
appease simple pleasure
inexplicably to satiate
passion with English
Language and slake

unquenchable thirst
experiencing euphoria,
vis a vis yours truly
melding, jump/kick starting,
forging, distilling
reasonable rhyme
(albeit short lived) giddy
as if I won sweepstake
this newfound affinity
with whittling words

manifested during opaque
throes of fatherhood,
when ceaseless parental
demands sought fast break
from learning to
accommodate lest stressful
overwhelming anguish
found me undertake
king oft times frazzled state,
where among great

anonymous dead poets
society, posthumous renown
would be small consolation
for widowed missus,
whose then two little girls,
(now grown to womanhood)
would inconsolably shake
for ever and anon drowning
their sweet sorrows,
where profuse tears
engender lachrymose lake.