Poetry-Thing Thursday: One Ugly Goat

Cloning the dialect,
of a brain unerect,
cannot help deflect,
ignorance, shame, or lack of intellect.

Posing on podiums,
and razing auditoriums,
with stubborn, lost boredium,
how untoward of ’em.

Give ’em a blue pill,
they rise like a hill,
cause they’re a flammable still,
with pants burning at-will.

They open their jowls,
release lies as if bowels,
so don’t forget towels,
in the presence of such fowls.

They’re nothing but swine,
discordant waves of sine,
with brains unlike thine–
how for intelligence we pine!

So go cast your vote,
but don’t sell your boat,
or throw out your coat,
for the elephant and ass,
make one ugly goat!

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Don’t Go

Don’t Go


Don’t go.

I’ll tell you the path to choose,



No, don’t go,

the river is cold,

the water is old,

And the path your bound on-borrow.



don’t speak.

The water is rising,

reaching the peak.


Don’t go.

A warning,

from a siren callin’.

An upended moon,

from a sky that’s fallen.


No, don’t go,

ne’er to return home.

There will come a day,

for wild oats to be sown.


For the moon can’t be owned,

and the seeds won’t have grown,

and the fires will have shown,

that you were meant for home.


Don’t go,

I’ll tell you the path to choose,