Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.
The writing’s on a wall that’s yet to exist.
An empire crumbles for the shallowest of tryst.
With ignorance and spite winning the day,
our sky overhead turns blue to gray.
Made up beliefs distort the goal,
wishing for heaven but digging a hole.
A nation’s torn and the world’s to follow.
Easy solutions are always hollow.
Arrogance shines when senses dulled.
Kings are spawned when pawns are lulled.
Rooked again by another’s sin,
digits lose but the commas win.
A billion reasons just a handful knows,
only time will tell how this story goes.
I hope someday to write a happy end,
when the traitor’s torn, then to mend.
The day will come
when words won’t flow.
Could be tomorrow,
I don’t know.
That won’t mean
my feelings have waned.
It means I’ll find a new way
to keep you entertained.
In the cosmos, human’s small,
scurrying about atop their ball.
We’ll think we’re large until our fall,
when all are blue on this little ball.
A coal fired space force; I hear is in the works.
A test flight’s needed, let’s send some jerks.
It can be its creator with lil Mikey by his side.
I’ll gladly pack lunch for their long ride.
Cozy in their ark, endlessly they’ll float.
Lost in space, the pair can forever gloat.
In times past the sky gifted hydration.
Now bile and acid rain down on the nation.
Sons spy through a growing and graying cloud,
patrons and maidens aglow and proud.
Though these gilded reflections are not for all,
till again the reign shall rightly fall.
Taxing Tax Free
The nice thing about
being an author is you
wrote your own paycheck.
More or Less
If you try sometime
you do find you get what you
tried for but no more.
Dueling Wits, I Coulda Had a G8
If a sum’s greater
than its parts, then parts lacking
must be a summit.