Thursday, July 28, 2011

A Critic

Rosy-cheeked tickled pink
By outrageous cat-calls
By Dogs barking lascivious soliloquies
Hoping for pale moons to show.
I was there when it occurred
When the beast did prey on their predators
Coyly asking "Come hither"
Showing their tails
And running away.
The kittens run faster than the cats
Only to be caught twice as fast
Torn apart
And left by the side of the road
Wiser but still pitiful
The cats play with their preys
They know
That without proper and caring guidance
The dogs that hound them
Would be left chasing their own tails
Panting pathetically
So they play
And the kinder ones stay
And I saw it all
Locked up in my cage.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Selfless Sobs

I have this thing about smiles
Not a real thing thing, just a thing
‘Cause… well, there’s the thing
The Way of the World
How it was imparted to me
By those that I have assigned worthy of dictating
My petty actions
To do what you can for those that are of ill-fortune
Help to make prosperous the impoverish
Aid those that are aid-deprived
And while that’s all well and good…
What should I do with the rest of my time
When the world only seems to smile?
Make well myself?
But myself is no-self to make well—
I mean I’m perfectly fine
I am content with what is my and mine
So I ask again, what should I do with my time
When the world only seems to smile?
Make ill?
Make woe?
Well that would make the smiles cease
And relieve us from this banal peace
But cruelty undeserved? How deprived
I mean… I mean I know men aren’t angels
But does that mean they deserve the devil?
And by my hands?
Well, which hands but mine have yet to cast a stone?
But… no, no, to cause ill to save from ill that I’ll make
Such a… such a plague to the world
To decay perchance to preserve
The Altruist’s Sanity
Is Insanity

But I’m so bored.

Monday, July 11, 2011

A Female Dog Named Nostalgia

I’m drowning in my own nostalgia
Forgetting the present for the past
A Goddamn Nocturne
I make
Toward winters last
Where I shall eat stale bread
Sipped Curdled milk from a wine glass
To be
Adrift upon that cabin at sea--
The likes of which our fathers were probably born in
But Weren't--
Safe, alas.
After all I know what's there
And My memories could reform...
For after all if it was a wine glass then surely it was wine?
Why shouldn't I whine for what was mine
To forsake time
For that fresh bread and that sweet wine
That never was
Yet so vivid
Is it
In my memory

The day has not ceased
Yet that flighty king seems to have benighted me
To his court where the light can no longer lour’d overhead
And give my feats a rest

The Light
Which brings warmth and worn
Which seeks to remind me that my time is not yet done with me
“Do You wish it to be?”
“Of course not” said me
“Then wise up or I’ll take it from thee”

Such tyrannic rhetoric, I do not wear lightly
“Who are thee to tell me what is Right, [L]ight”
So I cast away that heir that keeps me afloat
And I drown
Forever Defiant
Tyrannical Truth

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Hey look another one...

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Hey! It's a Short Film; look at that...

Officially mine. This is my first. Tear it to pieces if you want.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

An Ode to Turkey Day

I’ve seen it. You’ve seen. We all have seen it.
The holly on lamp post wrapped around in a coil.
All surmounted with a bright red bow
Overlooked by mistletoes.
The Santas with their bells
Ring, ring, ring all the while the bird still preheats.
Oh yes, Christmas came early this year, as it did last year.
The out of season decoration that donned every store front
Even before the week of Thanksgiving had come.
Yes, Christmas came early this year but not for the cheer
Instead, it was for the shopping and the specials on TV.
All trying to capitalize on the non-seasonal cheer
So they ring and sing all the while turkey freezes in the freezer.
Prematurely forgotten,
And the dinner you ate last Thursday
Could’ve been a regular dinner for all anyone in the advertising business was concerned
Sure I can understand that you make more money selling presents than cranberry sauce.
But still, where’s the heart?
Do you even care?
You great businesses of enterprise
Have you forgotten how to squeeze every penny out from every holiday?
I still have my Yom Kippur earmuffs
“They’ll keep you warm,
While you atone”
Oh, and let’s not forget about the entertainment industry,
Who shows it mockery to the season.
I saw a Christmas special on Thanksgiving night.
Respectfully, it was after we had finished our dinner
But not before we had had our pie.
We as a people can not tolerate this.
We can’t accept what will come:
Reruns on Christmas day because the special was shown on Thanksgiving
It’s disgraceful; it’s a shame, its exposition.
An ode to turkey for someday this statement will be true
As the day will some day be known as Christmas part une (fr. One)
Bon chance, le petit dindle!
(Translate: Good luck, little turkey!)