Distortion and the Resident Asshole

Distortion and the Resident Asshole

I'm pretty sure distortion,
Could be found in you or me,
But I'm not ready to commit my thoughts,
Or to face reality.
On more than one occasion,
When impetus was all mine,
I was contented to play the asshole,
If it meant I won that time.
But don't confuse sarcasm,
For desire to use tact,
It's the perversion that's inside your head,
I woudn't want to contract,
For somehow this way suits you,
It's the apple to your sin,
It's the virus that's blows within your breath,
It's the olive in your gin,
So if I should go to Mars,
When you bore me thoroughly,
Remember that I am only thinking,
Thank god it's you and not me.


Invino Veritas
2/27/13
EOF

A Double Dose of the Short and Sweets

In Vino Veritas

In vino veritas,
But for you or for me?
A windy night together alone,
When all our seeds are sewn,
So que sera sera,
And whatever will be, will be.
In vino veritas,
Not for you,
But for me.

Malevolent Benevolence

My benevolence, I see,
Is sure to get the best of me,
And regardless of all that is right,
Even when it's in clear, plain sight,
It never is, but where it oughtn't to be.


Invino Veritas
2/22/13
EOF

Blunderbuss

Blunderbuss

A blunderbuss as ever he shall be,
Forever aligned with his memory;
Chances squandered in mediocrity,
Complacent as ever in misery.

Yet the population garnered respect,
For the man incapable to reflect,
To pick and choose and even to dissect,
The situations for him to inject.

And, yet, they'll say he was so practical,
Consigned himself to the most probable,
Devoted to the most inscrutable,
Certainly, quite incontrovertible.

Stepping forward with the foot that was right,
Sure kept him safe from the bumps in the night,
Tossing the salt at the spirits in spite,
Gave peace of mind, radiance to light.

But in all his calculated measures,
Security allowed him some leisure,
As our blunderbuss counted his treasures,
The universe shrug'd and chiseled his ledger¹.


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 1. A  stone slab or block laid over a grave or tomb.

Invino Veritas
2/8/13
EOF

Impala

Impala

Oh, but I was ugly,
But it had to be done,
It had gone on too, too long,
I had let it persist,
And it grew like a thorny vine,
Like a weed,
A dandelion in the garden,
I ignored it.
But then again,
It was just a taste,
A mere smidgeon,
A speckle on a robin's egg,
An egg in the basket,
Waiting to be cracked open,
And spread upon her head.

Upon her cross she crawled,
As she had done so many times before,
Glaring down upon me,
Her head cocked to the side,
Like the chicken that laid that egg.
No, she wasn't the martyr.
She was the self-appointed,
The messiah in her mind,
She was the hunter in the stars,
Brandishing her arrows,
And releasing them unto her prey.
But tonight,
I was the impala,
Changing direction with its heartbeat,
Drifting left,
Dodging right,
Jumping over reed,
Through valley and over stream,
Away from the snapping jaws,
Of the lioness and her pride.


 Invino Veritas
2/5/13

EOF

Dichotomous Hippopotamus

Dichotomous Hippopotamus

The dichotomy inside of me,
Is, indubitably, old to me,
Alas, I intend to fare it well,
To drain its well,
To buy and sell,
Strip it of its hardened shell,
In order to quell the ringing bells,
Of antiquity that anchor me,
So unsuitably, bereft of me.

'Tis the general rule to ridicule,
Ordain them fool when the logic pools,
Alas, I intend to draw the line,
As once refined,
In ancient times,
By the minds that redefined,
At once aligned the greatest of minds,
From the mental spool of mental fuel,
To the vestibule of golden rule.