Oh perfection
I wouldn't know what to do with you
Nor would I recognize you
If you fell upon my face
So kissed by the nettles of every day
Nerves hidden beneath scars and scabs
They wouldn't know how you felt
Leap to your touch
Oh perfection
What do you sound like?
Could I know it if I heard it?
Dulled as my hearing is
From the sounds of my profession
The screams of metal and combustion
Oh perfection
What do you smell like
Compared to the extremes of a skunk
Versus the vague and floral flower
And worse when one merges into the other
Without a border or transition
The rotten and the sweet
Mixed and trodden under nose and under feet
Oh perfection
What do you look like
Could my soft cow eyes perceive you
Looking through their plastic prisms as they do
In and out of focus
Twitching at the sight of every day
The retina does not grade things on a scale
Oh perfection
Perhaps you are just a notion
Different for everyone
Overcoming all senses
Merging with them
Surrounding all in bliss
A brush with perfect
An angel's soft kiss
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Hipster Batgirl is Too Cool For You
Nananananananana
Shaggy hair hanging over eyes
Sipping coffee from a brought along cup
Hipster Batgirl looked moodily at her dad
"Bruce..." she sullenly began
A large black gloved hand made a shushing motion
"Not while I'm working
How many times do I have to tell you?
It's either 'Dad', or 'Batman'"
Rolling her eyes and taking another sip of independently brewed coffee
"Whatever.......DAD"
Naughty hipster Batgirl
Caught breaking the rules
Too cool to do what all the other Superfriends do
And congregate at The Hall of Justice
She hangs out across town
With her own kind
All the androgynous hipster superheroes
Tight Jeans Man
I Was Into That Before It Was Cool Guy
Won't Give You The Time Of Day Woman
And of course
The Atomic Hipster
At least that's what Batman tells her
Trying to get Batgirl to toe the line once again
Hipster Batgirl just spreads her cape
Makes a face
And keeps on drinking her coffee
Muttering to herself
"Fucking conformist"
Shaggy hair hanging over eyes
Sipping coffee from a brought along cup
Hipster Batgirl looked moodily at her dad
"Bruce..." she sullenly began
A large black gloved hand made a shushing motion
"Not while I'm working
How many times do I have to tell you?
It's either 'Dad', or 'Batman'"
Rolling her eyes and taking another sip of independently brewed coffee
"Whatever.......DAD"
Naughty hipster Batgirl
Caught breaking the rules
Too cool to do what all the other Superfriends do
And congregate at The Hall of Justice
She hangs out across town
With her own kind
All the androgynous hipster superheroes
Tight Jeans Man
I Was Into That Before It Was Cool Guy
Won't Give You The Time Of Day Woman
And of course
The Atomic Hipster
At least that's what Batman tells her
Trying to get Batgirl to toe the line once again
Hipster Batgirl just spreads her cape
Makes a face
And keeps on drinking her coffee
Muttering to herself
"Fucking conformist"
Friday, September 28, 2012
Once a Month
Let us retire to the bleeding room
Where the menses flow
Awash in a crimson glow
So much better than the men's room gloom
Amidst hanging red velvet curtains
We women can share our burden
Of virility and fertility
At least once a month for certain
In these Victorian times
In these southern hot climes
It's hot as hades in here
Let's all disrobe
Now nude and all sweaty
Wearing nothing but blood diapers
Our maid servants stand at the ready
To calm our blood sweats
And hold our frail frames rock steady
Won't you knit with me dear?
Here have some red woolen yarn
Oh my didn't you hear?
It's our team colors so to speak
Chosen with care by my husband Lord Beak
Of course that isn't his name
But I call him that just the same
For his nose could poke an eye out it's true
But wait this isn't news to you
I've seen you leaving his chambers at night
Hush hush my dear
There is no need to fear
Us women are more practical than that
To be honest I'd be more jealous if you wore my favorite hat
Lord Beak is all but used up and past his prime
You are welcome to his attention
As long as you don't mention
That I've moved on to my favorite footman
Now hold my hand darling
While we tell each other lies and bleed
Where the menses flow
Awash in a crimson glow
So much better than the men's room gloom
Amidst hanging red velvet curtains
We women can share our burden
Of virility and fertility
At least once a month for certain
In these Victorian times
In these southern hot climes
It's hot as hades in here
Let's all disrobe
Now nude and all sweaty
Wearing nothing but blood diapers
Our maid servants stand at the ready
To calm our blood sweats
And hold our frail frames rock steady
Won't you knit with me dear?
Here have some red woolen yarn
Oh my didn't you hear?
It's our team colors so to speak
Chosen with care by my husband Lord Beak
Of course that isn't his name
But I call him that just the same
For his nose could poke an eye out it's true
But wait this isn't news to you
I've seen you leaving his chambers at night
Hush hush my dear
There is no need to fear
Us women are more practical than that
To be honest I'd be more jealous if you wore my favorite hat
Lord Beak is all but used up and past his prime
You are welcome to his attention
As long as you don't mention
That I've moved on to my favorite footman
Now hold my hand darling
While we tell each other lies and bleed
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Supercolon & Megacomma
Supercolon and Megacomma
My stalwart friends
They give me superior powers
To write sentences without end
Just when I think I've reached a conclusion
Something else occurs to me
Oh, how to tie it in?
Why, simply insert Supercolon
And that tangential idea
Just fits right in
Have a long thing to say?
All along the same lines?
Megacomma is your friend for sure
Keeping the flow going
Holding their attention
Though the sides of that sentence bucket be bowing
Megacomma lets you have a sentence a page long
Or more
Supercolon gives you magical ability
To point and counterpoint
Give examples without end
Proper sentence structure is for sissies
It's time to make up our own rules
Nobody's grading I assure!
Supercolon Megacomma 2012!
Don't forget to vote
My stalwart friends
They give me superior powers
To write sentences without end
Just when I think I've reached a conclusion
Something else occurs to me
Oh, how to tie it in?
Why, simply insert Supercolon
And that tangential idea
Just fits right in
Have a long thing to say?
All along the same lines?
Megacomma is your friend for sure
Keeping the flow going
Holding their attention
Though the sides of that sentence bucket be bowing
Megacomma lets you have a sentence a page long
Or more
Supercolon gives you magical ability
To point and counterpoint
Give examples without end
Proper sentence structure is for sissies
It's time to make up our own rules
Nobody's grading I assure!
Supercolon Megacomma 2012!
Don't forget to vote
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Aspirations & Realities
I aspire to write The Cremation of Sam McGee
But end up with The Anguish of the Sugar Packet
Oh woe is me
But end up with The Anguish of the Sugar Packet
Oh woe is me
War of The West Corner Restroom
The cockroaches and roly polys
Battled from grout line to grout line
Heedless of sunrise or sunset
A miniature battle scene suspended in time
In the abandoned Admiral station men's room
Every square inch valued in lives
Unable to live together
Unable leave and go it alone
That darkened dank bathroom
Might as well be an oasis in the desert
A safe harbor in a storm
At opposite ends of the room
Were the nests of the insects in question
In the red corner lay Armadillidium Vulgare
Like a low and slow armored tank
Legs almost hidden from view
Able to roll up into an impenetrable ball
At the slightest sign of a danger or two
In the blue corner lurks Periplaneta Americana
Evolved to live most anywhere
Long legs and antennae wiggling in the air
Determined to take over the world
Starting with this single room
Sgt Bronson rolled up upon his armored parts
Uncoiling in one motion
He saluted oh so smart
With a top set of legs
"Sir! The Roaches are trying to flank us around the south stool!"
He reported with zero enthusiasm
General Pillbug rolled a very tiny cigarette
Lit it and contemplated for a moment
"Bring the artillery around that side
Start a barrage to keep them pinned down
I'll round up the Specialists to take them out"
Sgt Bronson saluted again
And with a "Yes Sir!"
Was rolling on his way once again
General Pillbug sighed and peered at his map
This damned room
He thought to himself
Has kept us here for so many generations
Eyes darting up at the glow of the distant single window
If only there were a way to get up and out
To stop the slaughter
But he knew it wouldn't happen
He'd had that idea shot down too many times to count
If only he had proof of life outside this room
The General summoned the Specialists
Who rolled in
Their armor sparking on the ceramic tile expanse
The strike was routine
They'd all done similar things hundreds of times
And with a simultaneous salute they were on their way
To deal death to the Roaches once again
The General stopped the last Specialist before he rolled away
And beckoned him over
With a conspiratorial air
General Pillbug pointed up in the vague direction of the window to the world
"I don't suppose you know how to climb....?"
Battled from grout line to grout line
Heedless of sunrise or sunset
A miniature battle scene suspended in time
In the abandoned Admiral station men's room
Every square inch valued in lives
Unable to live together
Unable leave and go it alone
That darkened dank bathroom
Might as well be an oasis in the desert
A safe harbor in a storm
At opposite ends of the room
Were the nests of the insects in question
In the red corner lay Armadillidium Vulgare
Like a low and slow armored tank
Legs almost hidden from view
Able to roll up into an impenetrable ball
At the slightest sign of a danger or two
In the blue corner lurks Periplaneta Americana
Evolved to live most anywhere
Long legs and antennae wiggling in the air
Determined to take over the world
Starting with this single room
Sgt Bronson rolled up upon his armored parts
Uncoiling in one motion
He saluted oh so smart
With a top set of legs
"Sir! The Roaches are trying to flank us around the south stool!"
He reported with zero enthusiasm
General Pillbug rolled a very tiny cigarette
Lit it and contemplated for a moment
"Bring the artillery around that side
Start a barrage to keep them pinned down
I'll round up the Specialists to take them out"
Sgt Bronson saluted again
And with a "Yes Sir!"
Was rolling on his way once again
General Pillbug sighed and peered at his map
This damned room
He thought to himself
Has kept us here for so many generations
Eyes darting up at the glow of the distant single window
If only there were a way to get up and out
To stop the slaughter
But he knew it wouldn't happen
He'd had that idea shot down too many times to count
If only he had proof of life outside this room
The General summoned the Specialists
Who rolled in
Their armor sparking on the ceramic tile expanse
The strike was routine
They'd all done similar things hundreds of times
And with a simultaneous salute they were on their way
To deal death to the Roaches once again
The General stopped the last Specialist before he rolled away
And beckoned him over
With a conspiratorial air
General Pillbug pointed up in the vague direction of the window to the world
"I don't suppose you know how to climb....?"
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