To the Kind at Heart

He’s running on steamed day old coffee beans,

(have you ever seen such a wretched wreck?)

his eyes hang down in lumpiest bags seen

on man (life’s playing this kid with a stacked deck).

He’s fallen onto the floor just by

His classroom’s somewhat un-opened door. Blood

crawls in the veins his sleeping open eyes,

and he looks dead on the ground where he’d stood.

Then a stranger pulls him ‘n sets him on

a bench, letting him rest on a folded coat.

He sleeps now, breathing fine; he’ll wake at dawn

when the stranger’s gone, in memory remote.

         This sonnet’s brought to you by kindness prove
            and from the kind acts of readers like you.
 

       

Once Upon A Time

“Once upon a time” is my favorite phrase,

full of color and vivid pictures that

crawl into the ear and settle there for days,

troubling the brain with images that beat back.

We may ponder fairy-tales but not as

often as they may ponder us. Evil

queens and poisonous fruit, killing good as

it pleases in service to their master-

But evil will not realize that good is

strongest still, and has a shepherd huntsman

that is always there, is always kind, is

always one step ahead of its wretched sin.

         Though the huntsmen seem silent to our cries,

         we’ll in hope remember “Once upon a time”.

For Those Drafts that Really Get You Down.

How is it easy, this pen scratching job?

How do I make it fun, like my heroes?

It hurts so much to fail before the mob

of writer idols I’ve set up, it does.

Looking at stars from primordial mud,

Stuck up to my neck and ears in ooze

Stinking of failure and self-pity. Flooded

in tears, knowing I’ll never reach those dudes.

No, I’ll never call myself one of them.

In the end I never can be nor will,

either I’ll die my own muck and sin,

or this poisonous dirt I’ll up and till.

         I choose to be happy and write what I like,

         so don’t beat yourselves up writer, just write!