Rage, rage against the crying of the mite

Do not go meekly into that Odeon night,
Old age should rant and rave at kids these days;
Rage, rage against the crying of the mite.

Though wise men of their ringtones know; silence is right,
Because their words have brooked no fight they
Do not go meekly into that Odeon night.

Gentle folk, four bucks a Coke, or sipping Sprite
Their simple needs unmet indeed, as Trailers play
Rage, rage against the cying of the mite.

Wild ones who yell and shout at hero's plight,
And learn, too late, they missed dialogue along the way,
Oh do keep it to yourself, All right? 

Brave men, now deaf, senses dulled by conversations trite
Blind eyes turned to racous rude display, 
From the flinging of the Mike and Ikes.

And now, my friends, there in the Odeon night,
Curse or praise, but behave as befits your years, I pray
Do not go meekly without a fight.
Rage, rage against the cying of the mite.

There once was a ram

There once was a ram in a zoo
Who never had time to be blue.
While some rams were sad
And others got mad
His secret, he said, was fuck ewe

Death is an acceptable excuse...

Death is an acceptable excuse for an absence

Indifference much harder to bear

Well used as I am to perpetual distance

For the dead, one can compose a prayer

For the dead, one can breathe, and grieve, remain and endure

And now breathing I do much the same

Keep obserdevotions, prepare for the worst, unsure

And wait, as pawns do, movements in game

When all good deeds....

When all good deeds have been repaid

the Hero gets a weighted blade

the heroine lies a ruined wreck

ashes and sack cloth now bedecked

Dragons die with all they hoarded

Loyalty goes unrewarded

You never see the ones you serve

Yet always get what you deserve

The Vampiress

Your honeyed eyes

belie a deeper gaze

which beckons nigh

yet fades in light of day

Your wanton smile

is hungry for the flood

that swallows while

it drowns all that is good

Your ragged breath

breathes deep surrounding scent

exhales death

and wonders where life went.

That poems professing love...

That poems professing love

often mention gods

must show that as above

so below goes on.

The lord in the lover lies

now belief and faith are known

the divine in the mortal is recognized

and the way to true heaven is shown.

The Port City

I found her by the water

that lady of great renown

the salty spray like jewels

bedecked her trailing gown

The web of lights men bought her

she wore more well than any crown

to delight the eyes of fools

for the maid is not the gown