Badges

 

Beneath its shiny, golden glow

power infects with its radiation,

the brain balloons in braggadocios buffoonery,

eyes bulging with boasting

blinded to the simplest mistakes.

 

Blood to the mind is squeezed

in the vice of pride,

preventing its plasma from feeding

nutrients that provide logic.

 

Without those vitamins

mirrors dim in the ability to show flaws,

skin becomes dull and unable to feel

the wounds from tripping

from having tied one’s shoe laces together

while looking at the sun

and being so joyful

your own glory is brighter.

 

It is when the badge

only exists in your head

that the condition is crippling

because there is no way to stop

the slow decay in reason.

until the only thing you can see

is the shadow from your greatness

invisible to everyone else.

 

The darkness from that shade

keeps one from noticing

how those masterful strokes in decisions

are made with a moron’s fingers.

 

Last Chances

Ebbs of endless light

shines in thoughts,

before life’s fall

brings autumn’s heart.

 

For Your Special Day

 

So soon you will be twenty-two

such a terrific age to be

and don’t let those rumors

about how your body reacts

different to cake and parties

after twenty one

keep you from having fun.

 

Why many have gone on to live

perfectly normal lives

following that temporary moment

when icing and ice cream

make you go a little crazy.

 

Don’t fret it at all,

those padded walls

will just give you a nice place to rest.

 

I hear the meds come in pretty colors too,

plus you’ll most likely see lots of rainbows

even if there are no windows

in your room.

 

Now go out there and enjoy yourself

celebrate with all the excitement you want,

after all, should nature for twenty two

take its course,

a special time of forced rest will do you good

never mind those supposed side affects,

it is always nice seeing new invisible

even if they look like pink gerbils in black lace.

 

Boob Tube Blackjack Baron

 

We bought this new generation of video game systems

back when Pac Man and Space Invaders

were the electronic charms that captured minds.

 

This innovative Fairchild machine

hooked up to our television,

allowing us to gateway to visual playgrounds

where you could be a World War One Ace,

a race car driver or downhill ski racer.

 

But the one that truly riveted and challenged

was the blackjack game,

giving a person the chance

to play a round of twenty one

against the computer casino.

 

My brother and his wife

came over one Friday night,

I didn’t know he were gambling addicts,

thought they really went to Vegas

for the cheap meals and rooms.

 

The moment he took that control

there came a ravenous look in his stare,

tongue sticking out,

hands nearly shaking from being so obsessed,

following each winning a hand

he would scream and throw his arms in the air

like he had just earned a championship.

 

I couldn’t believe how he let that program

totally turn him into a zombie,

after three hours I knew he was beyond help.

Had to trip the circuit breaker to get him to quit

with his eyes still dancing

mumbling he needed to break the house

before his red faced while escorted him out to the car.

 

Lost my enthusiasm for playing that card contest,

while my brother went back to Nevada

apparently convinced he was now an expert.

Never did ask how he did

merely noticed he didn’t talk about going there again

also got a second job,

saying he had to pay off debts from his trip.

 

Weekend Lover

 

He was an expert at everything,

all you had to do was ask,

hunter, athlete, champion and leader.

 

A voice of experience,

self appointed god,

if he hadn’t been victorious

in every labor, quest and thought

it was only because time was a barrier,

never an excuse.

 

So one weekend out of every month,

his spirit would venture into the unknown,

from camping to running marathons,

then on Monday regaling us at work

with the latest deflowering of his life.

 

Careful to mask those bruises, scrapes and scars

with tales of courage and passionate convictions.

 

This occasional quest for sensory maturity

came to an end one Saturday,

after he tried a cross-county Motorcross event

though he had never driving a motorcycle before,

manage to borrow one from a friend,

convincing him that he was a master at those wheels.

 

According to him the elements plotted against his success

the fact he got confused and pulled wrong handle for breaks,

didn’t enter into his conversation

while we visited him at the hospital

where he was in a bed with two broken legs,

good thing he swelled head at least could wear a helmet!

 

Tomorrow’s Leader

 

In the secret caverns of governmental agencies,

scientist work with DNA technology

and computerized theorems

to produce the perfect man.

 

But budget cutbacks and red tape complications

have left their task only partially completely,

now the future of mankind,

the hope for one leader to rise

that might rescue the world from its suffering,

remains a being only partially completed.

 

Sadly they were still arguing over

what was the ideal left robotic arm

he needed in replace of a normal limb,

unable to decide if it should have laser weapon in fingers

or a very versatile device,

which was a combination of can opener, stapler

and special remote control.

 

Meanwhile, other parts wait to be cloned for help

with modifications to make them

super, incredibly extra powerful,

such as various muscles from body builders,

so he’s stuck with a scrawny form

until the transplants can be refined.

 

As for a brain, well it works fine,

though not quite the genius he’s suppose to be,

having to wear that special cap with implants

of internet wireless system

in order that his mind can absorb

a variety of web sites and data.

 

Hopefully it will all end

with his becoming a true blessing

instead of this work in progress

who at his current level

can only manage to drink beer

and recite quotes from the three stooges.

 

The Water’s Edge

 

Sitting on the sand

is the white, wooden hope,

in hull and mast,

held in that dry dock cradle

upon a land stretching as strip

connecting to the shore,

while serving as haven for sailor’s dreams,

of those mariners trapped in neighborhood moorings,

holding onto their frail visions of vessel escape.

 

Riding the cerulean seas in their minds,

spirit swaying to imaginary tides,

picture of that sailboat framed

and hung on the wall,

sometimes driving out to sit inside

and feel the wind brush across the face,

remembering the vow to finally slide the craft

into that water and toss aside every care,

leaving behind worries constantly nipping

at your thoughts like barking junk yard dog.

 

Visions come while holding onto that steering wheel,

mentally plotting a course to some exotic isle,

inhaling the salt air with eyes closed,

soon the head clears of its distractions.

 

In the distance noticing another boat

heading out to the ocean,

making that resolution to next year

to be the one plotting a course to paradise.

 

Trying to exhale the memory

over making the same promise last year,

but holding onto the tidal fantasy

that eventually some wave would wash away

all the anchors of life

keeping the heart landlocked.

 

Take That Hugh Hefner

 

 

We sure am proud

can’t wait to have all the ladies

come beggin to be our dates,

done read Playboy through so many times

them words sure did slow us down,

but now we’re ready

learned all about how Hugh Hefner

got all them women.

 

Done got one of them spas just like him,

only ours is better

since we can go where the gals hang out

providing we can figure out where that is.

 

My buddy Zeke’s stocked the cab with beer on ice,

we added one of them CD portable players

for listening to some romantic tunes,

wish we had remembered it don’t work good in water,

boy was that a shocker,

new one is over in the dash for safety sake,

hope them girls love, Yodeling Elvis.

 

At least we figured out

even if it was the hard way,

farting in the tub don’t count for making it a Jacuzzi,

oh well, those two gals who ran away

weren’t the only ones around,

met them when we lucked out at the bar one night,

even if they did have mustaches humps.

 

Still it is all going to be so great

this is now our watery moving love machine,

just have to remember to not get so excited

that we end up letting some brown lumps

come floating up in the water.

 

Bait

I craved a fisherman’s glory

dwelling near the ocean

but feared drowning,

so I practiced my boastful tales.

 

But inexperience

was evident in my words,

in desperation trying to erase my shame

by lugging around some bait.

 

Amid their laughter

I learned

trying to paint spaghetti as worms

was the demise of my angler dreams.

 

Stripped

 

Her fruit she so willingly exposed to me,

being so soft and alluring to my fingers,

how touching that luscious flesh,

gave me incredible joy I had never know before

as I explored its texture with my hands,

willingly surrendering to my every desire.

 

And then lying back as I let my special personal juices

bath her body with its sweet, creamy sauce,

making her appear even more appealing.

 

At last allowing my tongue

a chance to sample the glorious mix

of that taste blending her skin and my fluids,

driving me wild from that unbelievable flavor

before my special stiff tool dug into that opening

where she had been spread apart,

granting me the rapture of knowing a treat

she hadn’t granted to anyone else.

 

What a feast for my senses and one I’ll never forget

when my virgin life discovered the writhing pleasure

from my first time of making and eating a banana split.