A ton of patience
A pound of love
An ounce of worry
A teaspoon of panic
A garnish of creativity
A pinch of grit
Sprinkled with acceptance

Mix above with a village
And let rest under a blanket of care

Preheat the crucible of life
And cast into the flame
(It will suck for both of you.)

Occasionally baste with affection and discipline
Bake for 18 years
Serve with a side of pride.

A cancer is a crab
That clings to you
Tightly.
Viciously.
Painfully.
Until its claws burrow deep
Into your sinews and bone
A pain so great
That medicine grants no cure
And death becomes your respite.

A cancer is a crab
That tears you apart
Menacingly.
Viciously.
Painfully.
Until its pincers tear you
From inside out.
A wound so deep
No surgeon can ever mend
And death becomes a friend

A cancer is a crab
That wins in the end
Inevitably.
Viciously.
Painfully.
Until you give out with your last breath and toil
And you take that bastard with you to the grave.
(I guess you still win in the end)

I sail through infinity and eternity
Inside my tiny car;
Its windows are fogged by my vapor
Its dashboard lifeless and dull
My friends are an umbrella and a tin can
And a half-dead phone and a canteen half-full

(I would’ve said half-empty,
But where is the rhyme in that?
That was rhetorical, by the way,
As rhetorical as the discourse with these lot)
One of them speaks in muffled silence
About a memory long-forgot

And another chides and heckles
While the others stare blankly
In the distance
A kinship forced unto us by proximity;
By calamity; a fellowship of one.
Sailing in a void of uncertainty

The Earth is patient
We are its illness
Our diseases are its remedies
Flu, cholera, plague, typhus.
Our calamities are its defenses
Flood, famine, hail and fire.
Our weaknesses are its triumphs
War, destruction, terror, desire.
Why must we live that she must die?
(She will not; she will outlive you and I)
But a ten-thousand year nuisance was our birth,
A footnote in passing
From a patient Earth.

Drip, drip
The floodwaters rise
Without a care
Not for the struggling student
Nor the president’s parade
Not for the clout chaser
Nor for the workers taking shade

Drip, drip
Will we be swimming drowning stuck for days?
Huddled in the damp cold dark
Of our bodies and souls?
My car’s windshield turns misty
As the storm swallows us whole

Drip, drip
And when all this is done
We will learn nothing
And the glaring sun we shall curse
And we will do our laundry
And we’ll be better off worse

I write this poem with 1% left

What to write what to write

It is as if my life is going through my eyes

And rhyme does not even matter

I write this poem with 1% lefr

No time to correct spelling errors

no time for capitalizations

no time for doubts

i wrtie this poem with 1%left

And soon i will have to go back

To the world

how we have become dependen5 on this

i write this poem with 1% left

dont cry for the poet

go back to your lives

Be

What do dogs dream of?
They dream of running
On green fields under the sun
They dream of belly rubs
And peaceful windy nights.
They dream of defending their charges
Against rats and roaches
They dream of rags and sticks
That they will pounce upon.
They dream of sandals and slippers
And bags and floorboards that they chew
They dream of the warm food
And the touch of their Master's hands
They dream of itching
And of the baths they hate and love
They dream of their mother and father
And their siblings and their home.
Do they dream of tomorrow,
Do they dream of what is to come?
Do they dream as we do
Do they hope and wish as we too?
Doggy dreams are simple dreams
I wish I had them too.

To be drunk

With power

When it is in grasp

Is to wear your heart on a sleeve

To be drunk

With madness

Is to choose defeat

And be thrown down the ramparts

To be drunk

With anger

Is to die

In a prison without bars.