Let’s talk sex

Why is it so important and natural
Why do some like it strange and kinky
Why do women supposedly like it big
When so many men are sadly just dinky

Why does it seem to sell everything
Why does it get politicians into trouble
Why is it so romantic and lusty in literature
When, in reality, it just bursts our bubble

Why does it make us feel so good
Why does it make some feel ashamed
Why does it lead to so much frustration
Who is the one, in the end, to be blamed

Why do we daydream about it
Why do we do it in the back seats of cars
Why do we think about it when driving to work
When will we get the chance to do it on mars

Why does it take two to tango
Why do some people like it rough
What does it all have to do with love
And why do we never seem to get enough

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morning glory

I wish I may
I wish I might
write a little poem
for my blog tonight

it doesn’t have to be
anything earth shattering or very big
as most of you probably know
that is not my gig

if only I could find the words to express
the simple beauty of a morning glory
or describe the lost feelings of youth
with a little unrequited love story

but, I’m tired and my body is aching
so, I think I’ll just go back to bed
and leave all the might-have-been words
to only exist as fragments in dreams in my head

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lost history

sadly, there is so much now lost and buried
so many long forgotten years of human history
like why ancient people completely buried
the megalithic ruins of Gobekli Tepe

or why someone shaped the beautiful stones
now fallen in disarray in Puma Punku
demonstrating that we can also forget
even the most amazing things we humans do

or how ancient Egyptians engineered and built
the awesome and enigmatic giant pyramid
the meaning and answers to which
now seem to us to be forever hid

or why the Rapa Nui people went to so much effort
to carve and move the hundreds of Moai
and erected these strange colossal statues
with backs to the sea and eyes looking up at the sky

so many civilizations, cultures and lives
that we have lost and long forgot
was it all just wasted time
that, in the end, was all for naught?

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Kennedy (with glasses)

have you had the chance to watch
FBN’s novel show, simply named “Kennedy”
in which the unique host talks fast and quips
with cutting intellect and a fun sense of comedy

she flashes her smile with confidence
captivating viewers with her TV chemistry
while expressing her libertarian views
with sincerity and not too much zealotry

with diverse guests and a topical storm
that demonstrate a lot of range and flexibility
and, if you didn’t know, she graduated from UCLA
and has a bachelor’s degree in Philosophy

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I was suffering from an abnormally long drought
in a land that was so arid that all tears had stopped flowing
as if they were trapped forever behind a dam
and were just floating in a reservoir of despair beyond all knowing

I was folded and then went forward around a corner
that was a flat dead-end and obviously went nowhere
only to burst into a new dimension
that seemed to appear out of thin air

until we reached the control room of the starship
frozen in the lake of tears because of a failed inter-dimensional jump
only to discover that it was counting down in a self destruct sequence
which exploded as I woke up in my bed this morning with a little bump


Girl of my dreams

I spent all late last night
with the girl of my dreams
It was so much more than I could hope for
But, I don’t know what it all means

It’s not like my stingy subconscious mind
To grant me one of my most secret wishes
So, of course, you can understand
Why I’m more than just a little bit suspicious

It’s a lot like winning the lottery
Although, it’s not really a big deal
It was only a dream, after all
And, sadly, dreams are not real


black lives matter

‘black lives matter’
that almost goes without saying
and, of course, ‘all lives matter’
should be the mantra we are all praying

from each innocent fetus
just waiting to be born
to the perverted purveyors
of popular hardcore porn

from a young black man
shot without justification by the police
to the innocent youth caught in a drive-by
by criminal gangs running wild in the streets

from police ambushed without warning
while simply being on duty
to the one percent in their high castles
busy being all rich and snooty

yes, ‘black lives matter’
because all life is precious and fleeting
and all those that would take life without regard
are those that are the most worth defeating

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happiness is not a cold squirt gun

in 6th grade, I was a shy and awkward youth
that was smitten with the smartest girl in my class
she had a lovely smile and sandy blonde hair and freckles
and was without doubt a very cute little lass

all I knew to do was to taunt and tease
so, I would pull on her pretty hair
in an epic fail attempt to demonstrate
to the poor young girl that I cared

or I would knock over her pencil can
sending her pencils crashing onto the school floor
just to get a reaction and a moment of her attention
as if all is really fair, after all, in love and war

and one dark day at the school carnival
I shot her in the face with water from a squirt gun
so sadly, I don’t expect that she thinks very well of me today
or that the time she spent with me was very much fun

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somewhere in delusion land

sometimes, like tonight
she’s in a world I can’t see
while I’m caught like a rat in a trap
in this material four-dimensional reality

I can only hope that she is sometimes happy
living in a world that is all her own
because I wouldn’t like to think she’s alone
in an old black and white episode of the twilight zone

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it’s just another innocent boy
that will never experience sadness or joy

it’s just parts to be sold
by Doctors that are so terribly cold

apparently, there is no cost
so, don’t compare this loss to the holocaust

because, in the end it is all done by choice
except for those without a voice

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just a lucky roll of the dice


Dice (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I suppose that it’s entirely possible and rational
that our existence comes down to just a lucky roll of the dice
but when I look at this unique and beautiful living planet
it sure makes me shake my head in wonder and think twice

it could be that we are just the most luckiest of sentient species
to be living here and now on this planet in all of space and time
but I wonder if the explanation for our amazing lucky streak
may be the result of something a little more, well dare I say, divine?

as we vainly search the stars and listen with all our technology
only, so far, to find nothing else alive anywhere we look out there
maybe we should all stop for a moment and be a little more thankful
and maybe, just maybe, we should all bow our heads and say a little prayer

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space to destroy

so, the mayor of Baltimore city ordered police to stand down
and provide plenty of space for those who wished to destroy
bringing us the sight of so many Baltimore buildings burning
which the anarchists and professional protesters appear to enjoy

how can these sad people be so very criminaly wrong
as to think that looting and rioting are any kind of a proper way
to protest and mourn the mysterious and tragic death
of one man while in police custody named Freddie Gray?

and there is celebration in the rush to judgement of six police officers
of committing murder and manslaughter for the fatal injury
as the same mayor of Baltimore city now says there will be justice
but doesn’t justice mean that we are all innocent until proven guilty?

I don’t think it’s a good time to be a cop or a citizen
in the crazy mixed-up liberal land of liberty and anarchy
whether or not we are talking about the burning of a CVS in Baltimore
or the ultimate fate these anarchists seem to wish for every other American city

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I love my car

photo by RK House

photo by RK House

when the head lamps guide me
and light my way safely at night
and when the jazz blue metallic flake paint
seems to glitter with life in the bright sunlight

as I admire the racy musical rumble
of that classic gasoline engine symphonic sound
and especially when I’m sitting alone in my car
just having fun simply driving around


2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 8,500 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 3 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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