All Ayes on Me

All I need is a sock
and it's Espionage.
I fear none of man's Armies;
none of them can harm me
like me.

All I have is a cock,
it's hard as rock or flops.
I'm made of light so blinding,
but I'm being blinded
by me.

All I need is to stop;
say no to self and walk.
In this world it is just me;
if only I trusted
in me.

All I have is this song
to soothe and move me on.
This hymn here is a lesson,
and no secret weapon
to me.

©2009 RA

Kindergarten of God

In the kindergarten of God,

I'm naught but a pawn,

spitting in an infinite pond.

And in this universe

that knows no wrong,

I've done become

distraught and oblong.

Lord knows,

I should be excited

to be alive and writing.

Insight is in sight--

it's not that I'm blind;

I know that light

must come from inside.

I've just not found

lightning to strike me.

Spread me thin

in this existence;

leave the ego broken,

no room for a friend.

At this place in space,

I'm no more penitent

than patient;

I won't wait

for judgement--

I'm above it.

I do not grudge

my relation's ships;

in any one I'll sail away

to a simpler place.

And it will be in grace

that I seize every day.

©2005-2009 RA

There's Always Room for Vegetables

O! how full the cupboards

had been;

full of enough victuals

to feed a couple fattened

by evening meal rituals.

O! how full of pastas

and sauces,

exotic tea boxes,

and chocolates

to eat or bake with.

O! how full the cupboards

had been;

until, one day,

the vegetables had had

their fill of sitting still,

and carted to the landfill

all foods that filled

the stomach,

but made one a lummox.

O! the revolting shrill

of the good wife

(used to the good life);

and O! the resounding clap

of her husband's fat

as he collapsed flat on his ass!

"O! how full the cupboards

had been", they cried!

But up they hushed

when they spied

the vegetables.

And, salivating,

they made a soup

of lentils and carrots

and potatoes;

and then baked

garlic cloves and onions

into flour-dusted,

honey-crusted,

savory rolls--

and when their bellies

were full, they felt sillier still

for having never appealed

to vegetables for a meal.

©2005-2009 RA

Hither & Thither

Here I am again:
thinking of you
as if I've ever
not thought of you--
IMPOSSIBLE.
Apart is the same
as lips parting aflame,
passions trapped in
God's immaculate contraption--
you.

Here I am again:
still thinking it
impossible
to not have thoughts
of you.
So it goes.
So it shall stay.
And, come to think it,
I quite like it
this way.

©2005-2009 RA