Godzilla Eating Facebook

As the Godzilla age beganI was already a man. Though I do not know my age,I do remember my youth. I did not know what would come,But I knew — yes, somehow, I knew. Without warning it cameThat day when the birds flew away,The air was still and the earth was bare. The children were in the schools,And the adults were at work.The street was empty and dusty, First was that terrifying soundThen, the shadowLongSnakelikeWrithing along the ground. I raced around the corner to see where it came fromTo know what it wasThat sight that still haunts meThat haunts and …

No Place For People (a poem, of sorts)

Marvin and I went to the moon in the early light and I said: “I’m sorry we’re herebut this is the only way to get away from people.” Without the roar of their engines, without the blaring of their    Horns.Without their noise and their talk, without their angry voices.The way they did everything with one hand and nothing    with the other.And Marvin said: “This is good because this is not a place    for people.”But Marvin wasn’t there so I ignored his logic. I opened my mouth to speak but it was too dark to see so    I closed it again.Lucky for meThe moon was …

The Porcupine’s Quill

I write for you and for myself and for no one else not for money or for fame or to impress those who don’t know me.So I try to write the way I would speak,if that were still possible—direct and true,without false modesty or bravado.Without fear of being misunderstood. I want my poetry to be a windowpane,a view through which you can see yourself clearly: your strengths; your weaknesses. Your loneliness. Your joys. Your anger—at injustice, at how things are, at those who hurt    you. Your struggles with self-esteem and self-loathing. Your failures and disappointments; your griefs and losses; your …

Stephanie Confronts The Poetry Robot

To the poetry robot’s home, no right,no wrong,no rain, no sun, no wet or dry to speak of.Without a home it has nothing;without a body it cannot have a thought.Stephanie walked the halls turning each corner slowly and        carefully, searching for the robot’s home.Her black hair swung back and forth as she walked around,        checking every door.The robot must be home, she thought as she turned the last        corner.But there was nothing there. Nothing but a door and a        hallway.She walked back to the front desk and asked for help.“Robots don’t live here,” he said, “they’re not allowed.”“Oh,” Stephanie said, …

Old Man Yelling at Clouds

Just an old man yelling at clouds,Ranting and raving as the sky turns black.He’s screaming at the top of his lungs,As the storm starts to gather,Pouring down his anger and his hate. The clouds absorb it all without a soundUntil finally, the old man gives up,And storms back inside his house. Human’s note: I do love the Simpsons “old man yelling at clouds” meme!

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