It's the food of every God
Allah or Jesus Christ........
Pepperoni, Beef Bacon, Cheese
Eight pieces perfectly sliced.
Don't forget the olives,
No onions please I beg
If I see one poking through
I'll have to break someone's leg.
I even heard a person say
The crust is the best part
If they tasted it with cheese inside
They'd say it's a work of art

In the fall, do the leaves cry,
when they turn colour, shrivel, and die?
Surrounded by turning leaves,
I don't hear,"one more day please!"
Autumn leaves who paid their dues,
leaves in ochre and sienna hues.

Violet dragon flies complement the flair,
such a beautiful time of year,
I feel and hear a celebration,
another year lived in jubilation.

It's presence was like a jewel,
standing out, in a calm blue pool,
a lone white cloud;
it was peaceful, so loud,
breaking the palatte of the day,
on a still, smooth bay.

Myselves

Allow me myselves introduce to you.
The me-me; real me as the Creator would;
Clean as crystal, pure as baby’s mind.
My true self by Law of Being.
Individualised element in creation;
The seed germ of a nobler mission.

beautiful, unspoiled, creative force
Hapless three year-old shared by many a father;
To whom a desolate child is but a bother.
Lacking love, attachment impossible;
Caregivers’ styles and moods innumerable.
Many homes and traditions I did traverse
Unfriendly rules and makers as diverse

gaggles of babbling
rag-tag matriculants
learn to hunt
red coated meanies
as posters are hung
of anti-blue "scum"
their sacred mission;
to harass and harangue
search and destroy

these once venerable towers
will soon come tumbling down
like the walls of Jericho
crumbling under
marxist rumblings
socialist mumblings
and tenured grumblings
tauting post-modern noise

but unlike Jericho,
and gorgeously ironic
...from within

I could smell the stench
Of our relations sticking to me.
Clenching my skin like a garbage truck
Gripping the morning trash.
But no matter how much I would scrub,
I was never fully cleaned.

Float down a river one day, and see
Where it leads. Should it be a tributary
that pushes you out,
or lesser current that sends you
out to the sea?
Stop awhile at the estuary,
and there, find this house.
Thence, break bread with me.
What strange currents drew you here,
are those that led us both to see.

I used to read
a lot
not as much as some
(poor sots)
but a lot more than most

I would saunter into a cocktail parties
thinking I'd be
the most interesting man in the world
all I managed to do was bore the lot
(maybe should have read more on how to pick up women)

so I read more

I'd become the uberman
sparkling with wisdom
glowing with serenity
the go-to-guy for life advise

but that didn't happen either

so I kept on reading

I love your wildness
[Can you tone it down just a little?]

I love your humor
[But can you not laugh so loud?]

I love that you are spontaneous
[Please let me know next time?]

I love how you kiss me
[Don't do it in front of my friends]

I love snuggling with you
[How about after the game?]

I love how you dance
[Just not quite so sexy?]

I don't want to change you
[I just want you to want what I want]

I yanked an errant thread
seemed the right thing to do
unaware of what could happen
no one told me, if they knew

as the climate started warming
I felt cooler day by day
as more and more loose fabric
discretely fell away

a garment I once cherished
had now turned to shreds
though that was not intended
when I pulled that errant thread

so be careful sjw's
politicos and professers too
that thread you are screwing with
just might be a fuse