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  1. Poem 500








    Either we knock
    sense into our life..
    or else it knocks
    us senseless
    instead.

    Whatever meaning
    that we find in it
    is probably our own.
    But either ways,
    life doesn’t give
    two pence.
    And when it does,
    it just as easily
    takes them away.

    So don’t get
    too …

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  2. Poem 499








    Whichever face
    it lands upon,
    it’s surely on
    The One
    of two heads..
    Upon the body of
    a double-headed
    dragon
    known as
    Death.

    They do say
    that two heads
    are better than one.
    For, there are
    twice as many
    ways for you
    to hit the bullseye
    when you aim …

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  3. Poem 498








    What does
    The Devil bring
    to the table?
    Oh, I don’t know..
    maybe the table!
    For, without it,
    where on earth
    would he then serve..
    the food he cooked
    for us with all his
    heart and soul?
    Upon the floor?

    The booze,
    the harlots,
    and the jesters,
    are all …

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  4. Poem 497








    You’re goddamn right..
    I am an open book.
    Just like The Ones
    you maybe read
    while curled up
    cozy in your
    little nook.

    I am the metal hook
    you chew on
    when you bite
    the author’s bait.
    The One that keeps
    you reading..
    even if it makes you …

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  5. Poem 496








    Now would you
    look at that..
    The Sun
    came up from
    The Duat, at last,
    to take a sneaky
    peek!
    I would be pinching
    my own cheeks..
    if I was not The Man,
    The Writer of this
    cheeky dream.

    The Devil won.
    The temptress
    is the tempted now.
    Now who …

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  6. Poem 495








    I laugh at myself
    so hard..
    that it should be
    illegal
    in most states.
    Except the altered..
    and the vulgar..
    and the terminally
    in-vain.

    What you have seen
    is only but the tip
    of the entire iceberg.
    I’m cold as chilling rain..
    to some.
    But then to others
    I …

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  7. Poem 494








    Is The Artist
    or The Scientist
    the celebrated one
    among our tribe..
    for all the boons
    he brings..
    the bearer of
    our light.
    The One
    who brings to us
    The Fire-making
    sense.. out of sheer
    nonsense and
    absurdity of life.

    Well, it depends
    upon the sense
    in which
    thy question …

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  8. Poem 493








    What do
    we really mean
    when we say..
    the words that we
    so often do..
    The holy trinity.
    “I love you.”

    I am its subject.
    You are its predicate.
    There is a hygienic
    hospitality of etiquette..
    by which these words
    are oh.. so.. often uttered..
    and by which these
    utterances …

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  9. Poem 492








    What sort of
    Turing tape
    machine
    must this
    puncher
    of holes
    erect..
    to crack
    the great,
    unsolvable
    enigma puzzle..
    of The Egg.

    It takes a gentle,
    steady loving hand..
    to slowly peel away
    its outer shell.
    Without inflicting
    damage
    on its sensitive
    insides.
    Until it’s free
    from its captivity …

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  10. Poem 491








    Who is that being
    that fills us with
    wonder?
    The One
    that can’t
    be thought of..
    rather that
    by which
    we ponder.

    Not the heat
    that emanates
    in all directions
    from The Fire..
    rather that
    by which it burns.

    Not the waves
    that rage upon
    The Ocean’s
    surface …

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