What if, God became a woman - what a difference we would see,
Bet the first thing that she'd tackle is the way that we all pee.
She’ll have seen all the advantages, that’s there when you’re a boy;
How it saves with all that squatting, and at night becomes a toy!

And she’d introduce discretions, like an air valve better placed,
To save girls squeaking trapped air out and getting all red-faced.
For with the aid of hidden pipework, they could whistle merry tunes,
And the playing of this music could be used for clearing rooms.

That moment past the
final flutter,
breathless rattle,
pulse extinct.
That
moment
where we
cease
to be.
Death, slips us into a perfect tense
leaving the dead
without past, present or future.
It hangs timeless
for all eternity.

the mountain looks spectacular
but I have come seeking the man on top

a sherpa is arranging my equipment

"have you ever met the man" I ask

"yes, many times " he says

"is it true what they say about him?"

"hey man, I'm just a guy
that has to lug your shit
up the mountain
and back down again.
Does that sound like a happy ending to you?"

I thought about it for a minute,
went into the base camp bar
and got drunk.

Sonnet to the Well-formed Derriere

I won’t encumber my frail mind with lies,
and therefore tell you nothing but the truth:
a woman’s shape does often catch my eyes
as they might rest on her . . . (I’m so uncouth!)

I woo my damsel with a tush so grand,
and peek beneath her flowing petticoat
in hope to see much more than just my hand--
I love the fullness I can’t help but note.

Love is a violin,
The high E grips my heart strings
never to let go.

Those nights, sometimes you just have those nights.
Those nights that tear everything that you believe in is apart.
The nights where you just want to grab a .22 and blast your head.
When all you can think about is how much you hate yourself.

The nights where everyone is ignoring you.
The nights that all you can’t think that nobody loves you.
The nights where you forget that you have a kid, and nothing else matters.
When you feel that no one cares about your life, and in reality, neither do you.

What can you do?

Supernatural

inside my brain lest I refrain
lies a deep impulse to explode
the notion of love that comes from heaven above
I was given this gift as a child
with pad and pen & a need to pretend

hands, heart, face & smile
cause I knew all the while that in time I would shine
to feel the warmth on my face by the sun
the conquest at hand to have a bit of fun
although those many years would pass
I had every viable reason to grasp

one day
that rooster
is going to awaken
an axe murderer

stumbling drunk
is easier than
suicide

the haunting song of a loon,
ending with a giggle

a singer's words
are useless
to a drummer

an anywhere
anytime hat
is a myth

a cuddly cat
doesn't care
that you are
macho

be cool
that four-eyed geek
might own you one day

his first word,
"mama"
as was his last

kids
now-a-days,
unwittingly Peter-panned

i started resting
i began to fail
am use to speed
why am i slow now
i rather masturbate myself to sleep and fuck my dreams
i hate snails for what they stand for
God is not teaching me patience.