THE LORD OF THE BASEBALL DIAMOND

Seven-foot Sauron stands imperiously

   like a goliath on the mound,

Wearing his glistening, gleaming armor,

   he longs to be crowned;

His wind-up is Smaug-like and

   slithering and serpentine

As if he’s been guzzling and gulping

   hot Mordor turpentine;

Brimming with poison pride, he

   frantically fires a fastball of power,

That rings through the air

   as it aims to devour.

Recognizing the temptation,

   Mr. Baggins the most honorable,

Surrenders to the Spirit and humbly

   lays down a bunt phenomenal;

The baseball sneaks softly

   down the third-base line

And Mr. Baggins thinks to himself,

   First-base is all mine!

Then, like a slingshot, off to

   first base he invisibly darts,

And the burglar makes it safely

   because he’s so smarts.

THE DEATH SPIRAL

Q-war-reling:        

even the fearful word        

forebodes a future filled     

with deep darkness;        

impatience heats to        

simmering anger        

then it boils over into        

raging revenge            

then it ignites into        

bloody battles                

then it explodes into        

world wars.

LANCELOT LOVERBOY

Lancelot Loverboy was his true name,

Pornography was his heart-thumping game;

Peeking at pics of sexy Doll Tearsheet,

His big bloodshot eyes were red as a beet;

But the more he looked at girls who were hot,

The more his eyes swelled, and larger they got;

And like Pinocchio’s long wooden nose,

Each one of his eyeballs just grows and grows;

Lancelot’s lewd obsession never stopped,

Then like a balloon each eye loudly popped;

He listened to Emotion’s lustful lies,

So that’s why Loverboy finally dies.

THE GOLFER

Every single day he’s at the first tee,

Swinging madly, the ball hits a big tree;

For five long hours he rips up the turf,

He treats his caddie as if he’s a serf;

Hooking and slicing all over the place,

A swinging corkscrew without any grace;

He wastes yet another day with his clubs,

Nothing but frustration with all his flubs;

All of this wouldn’t really be so bad,

But his son needs quality time with his dad.

MRS. MALAPROP'S DECADENT BLUEBERRY PIE

The smug Mrs. Malaprop confidentially

  spoke to her newest apprentice:

“This recipe is only for those affluent

  in the language of the culinary arts;

It is absolutely imperial to use berries

  that have the same constancy as caviar,

This gives the pie a wealth of flavonoids,

  such as radical-free anti-accidents;

The key is to use an inordinative amount

  of sugar to make it exceedingly rich,

In fact, undubitably, the pie must be

  baked with an upper-upper crust."

PANDORA'S BOX

For centuries weddings have been the same,

A boy and a girl to the altar came;

They chose a maid of honor and best man,

Always honoring God’s eternal plan;

But now boys join with boys and girls with girls,

As their large rainbow flag proudly unfurls;

Is our homeland one that totally rocks?

Or have we just opened Pandora’s box?

Without any doubt we must be PC,

Because, yes, this is the land of the free;

Therefore, let’s be sure to be inclusive,

For we don’t want to be called abusive;

Why must a civil union be a pair?

Somehow that just doesn’t seem to be fair;

Perhaps three, four, or even five might wed,

Though they might be hard to cram in one bed;

But why not also wed their pet poodle?

Just throw in the whole kit and kaboodle;

But if they can wed their cute little dog,

Then what about their flatulent green frog?

And if they wed humans and animals,

Then why not even add a few cannibals?

In fact, they don’t even have to stop there,    

Maybe they can add a tiger and bear;

They prevent their marriage from getting dull,

When they also wed a cadaver’s skull.

THE CHEMISTRY OF REVOLUTIONS

A Circular Poem with No Beginning and No End 

                    revolution?

it all starts when the

emotional electrons of

selfishness and fear

crash and collide,

thereby causing a chain reaction

that sparks the pulsating protons

and irascible ions of

savage seething anger and of

horribly hellish hate,

and this in turn ignites the

molecules of misery that

electrically explode into

woeful wailing wars and

dreadful devastating death;

but the question is this:

will there ever be

an end to

WHO WAS ADOLPH HITLER?

Did he learn how to

share?

Or did he shoot his popgun

because he didn’t

care?

Was this lad a contented little

child?

Or with fear

did his radical head run

wild?

Did he eat his meals in

peace?

Or if there was no meat,

did his impatient fury never

cease?

Was this boy ever

kind?

Or did his terrorized teachers

raise a furor thinking he lost his

mind?

Did he turn the other

cheek?

Or did he revengefully

call every enemy a

freak?

THE LIMOUSINE

As she opens the door of the

luxurious limousine,

with quivering, slender,

inexperienced fingers,

she ever so briefly

hesitates.

But before logic can stop her,

she rashly swings open the door of

emotion, and dives in before

reason can stop her.

The car abruptly speeds off,

and her body falls backwards

onto the long bench seat

which is as bouncy as a mattress;

she looks down and is disturbed

to see that her new white dress is

soiled by oily french fries

that are sprawled everywhere;

alarmed, she jerks her body

spasmodically

and knocks over an unseen

plastic cola cup,

and its black liquid --

its pop and fizz long gone --

splashes onto her lily flesh.

The depraved driver leers at her

while whispering lewd words that

slither like a serpent

out of his mouth,

creeping and seeping into

her virgin ears,

maliciously coiling around her

brain, before steadily injecting

their poisonous venom

into her mind.

Depressed and disappointed,

she slowly, sluggishly

exits the vehicle,

feeling used,

like a throwaway,

like the limo’s black exhaust.

THE HUNGRY CASINO

It opens up its cavernous mouth

and exhales its cigar breath,

then it prepares for its next meal,

more greedy gamblers,

who are like meaty drumsticks

dreaming of finally

hitting the jackpot

and filling their huge pockets

with millions of clinking coins.

It opens its mouth and

hungrily,

gluttonously,

gobbles them up,

chewing on the tasty meat

of their fat wallets.

After swallowing their savings,

it rudely spits them out,

fleshless,

penniless,

bags of bones.

THE ECLIPSE

Inspired by the writing of St. Teresa of Avila

Mortal sin is like

Pluto’s moon Charon,

which creeps stealthily

through the chilling

daytime sky,

until finally

its foul black disc

completely eclipses

the Son.

THE TWILIGHT

Whoever says he is in the light,

Yet hates his brother or sister,

Is still in the darkness --

But beware The Twilight,

Neither fully in the light

Nor fully in the darkness,

The Land of the Lukewarm,

Like the Laodiceans of old,

Who are neither hot nor cold,

Who will be spit out like

Salt that has lost its flavor,

Like vines that have no fruit,

They will be thrown out

And they will wither,

Ever so slowly wither,

Into the black earth.

FALLOUT FRED

Fred is a linguistic

  con-a-sewer,

And his foul words stink

  like black manure;

His expletives are

  nuclear missiles,

More irksome than

  teeth-shattering whistles;

His vile phrases

  detonate in our ears,

And our clean thoughts

  the toxic fallout smears;

Of his weapon he is

  extremely proud,

His soul is poisoned

  in the mushroom cloud.

WILLIE THE WORRIER

Willie the Worrier woke up in bed,

He was quickly filled with horrible dread;

His main goal in life was to get ahead,

Yet he stumbled and fell behind instead;

Never satisfied with his daily bread,

Now this stressaholic is door-nail dead.

RICKY THE RUSHER

Ricky rushes madly all the day long,

He’s petrified things will turn out all wrong;

His two nervous eyes seem made of green rock,

That shift like the pendulum of a clock;

Keep up with the Joneses, he must, he must,

Or all of his dreams will turn to grey dust;

His sad sour life is a merry-go-round,

And Fear chases him like a hungry hound;

Tragically, he lives at a breakneck pace,

With worrisome wrinkles on his blank face;

Ricky’s afraid he just might go crazy,

The truth is that his future’s quite hazy;

He needs to run, run, run, and buy, buy, buy,

But he never stops to ask himself why.

THE DAY TRADER

Ignoramus Maximus is his name,

And playing the stock market is his game;

With a dark ghoulish smile and fiendish eye,

Greed burns inside him and will never die;

He listens to the experts on TV,

Thinking these people the future can see;

As the stock market climbs to all new highs,

He trades hundreds of stocks of every size;

Thinking of nothing but buying and selling,

His addictive life is very telling;

To the god of riches does he succumb,

So that his sick brain becomes very numb;

But seeing his statement, he starts to choke,

He finally learns he’s totally broke.

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF RELATIONSHIPS

In centuries past, courtships took more time,

Holding hands was special and a little kiss sublime,

The merging of two hearts: as one they would rhyme.

ButNowIt’sHookUpsWithStrangersAndLotsOfAbuse,

APrettierGirlWalksByAndThenIt’sTimeToVamoose,

JustMeaninglessSexTillThey’reDeadInANooseAnd

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF DESIRE

We start with small

roller coasters in our small

lives, seeking a little excitement.

But-it’s-not-enough-and-so-we-

want-to-go-even-faster-and-so-we

search-and-hunt-for-even-more-thrills.

ButIt’sNeverEnoughAndFasterAndFaster

WeGoUntilFinallyWeDerailFromThe

TracksOfTruthAndMoralityAnd

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF FEAR

i-fear-

the-dangerous-and-

dreadful-death-spiral,-

the-dantean-inferno-

of-chilling-chain-reactions,-

of-technological-terrors,-

of-atomic-annihilation,-

of-regressive-progress,-

moving-us-forward-yet-

plunging-us-deeper-

and-deeper-and-deeper-

down-down-down-

into-the-frightening-funnel-of-

tomorrow

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF THE ENVIRONMENT

Francis, the Poverello of Assisi, really cared for Mother Earth,

The clear starry skies and sparkling waters filled with mirth,

Happy, healthy buds burst forth brightly in glorious new birth.

NowWeWatchWithDeepDreadForOurWoundedWorldBleeds,

SheSilentlyReachesOutToUsAndEverSoDesperatelyPleads,

WhatCanWeDoInOrderToCureHerAndSupplyAllHerNeeds?