Sonnet CCCXII

The pinkish, french-fry earthworms wiggle,
their gossamer a sheerest shine.
I carefully avoid their squiggles
and quickly leap minutely by.
The ravens perch like jet-black devils,
their eyes like opal, heads all level.
From trees above, they wait with glee,
their stomachs churning, fed with greed.
The rain is sloshing by my shoulders
and all about my feet as well.
Do I tread worms? I cannot tell!
Alas, I look beyond my sneakers -
I’ve helped a bird digest his meal–
at the expense of worms at heel!

Sonnet CCCIX

The hand that lives upon my left is virtuously good,
an advocate of chastity and humble purity.
My right hand dwells in boastful hubris – symbol of his greed!
My left hand sheds humility, of which my right hand should.

A pearl’s obtuse ambition stems from beauty in his plum.
Imaginings of greatness cloud his sphere – and like the sea,
ambition turns to laziness, and then to servantry –
accentuating other beauties, complimenting them.

The right hand wishes excellence; his talents justify.
In awe, we read his sentences, all crafted by his pen;
we hear his soaring melodies, and wear the clothes he mends –
And yet, his over-zealous flair is nothing but a joke.
In truth the virtue of the left is heightened by his friend –
the right’s distraught flamboyance causes need for humbleness.

Sonnet CCLXXII

Momentous, momentary pleasure must secede
to watching weight, so equally as selfish though
a lot less fun; an effort spent with foolish Woe.
How difficult and ravenous the task must be
when such delicious Turkey crowns the Festive Feast!
One smiles, sipping wine, and all the while knows
the foul fowl lights the Greed within the bowel,
a ghastly, menacing, and dangerous Disease.

One smacks their lips, a wolf delighted with their Hare;
but truly, is it hare or Wolf that’s now ensnared?

A-rumbling in the antechamber of the gut,
a trembling Fire burns, the inkling of Desire.
One takes the fork and grabs a bite as now the pyre
alights, ignites, and rages like a dirty Smut.

Sonnet CCXXXIV

I love the end of lessons during Christmas time.
I feel like Santa, giving lovely things away:
the strips of stickers, shiny, glittery, like day,
as bright as all the happy grins I see each time.

The flakes of snow and snowmen turn the day from grey
to cheerful shimmer. Best of all, the lessons s play
instead of drag. Each student can’t resist my tray
of stickers, so enticing, pretty, and sublime.

(Of course, I take a few. Who dares resist their fun?
They cheer me up when all my day of teaching’s done.)

Surround yourself with happy things and joyous thoughts,
for life is only bearable in happiness.
Ignore the rapping at your door by sombreness,
Or else our sadness gropes for life and plots its plots.

Sonnet CXLVI

my hatred boiled in a silver tray,
too haughty to be served to that android,
that vile villain, more than words can say,
arousing anger when I am annoyed,
my burning hate becomes more strong each day,
until the thought of crude revenge was joy –
fulfilling joy in every single way,
a satisfying prize that never cloys!

i’ll take your hair and rip it from your head
i’ll tear your precious limbs from your poor corpse
i’ll shred your entrails, throw them on the floor
i’ll burn your skin with acids ‘til it’s red
i’ll hope you’re still alive because of course
i’d rather you to suffer so much more!

Sonnet CXXXVI

The burning heat had charred my weakened eyes
and on the ground I saw a horse’s tail.
I stopped. It was a frog’s poor legs and flies.
I saw the head as well, the tongue so pale.
And stretched along the body like a tree’s,
its twisted limbs, all gruesome green as dales.
The skin a flattened brown, ripped open, free,
the blood the colour of a rusted nail.

The flies – a million –all lucent black,
all crawling, fighting, filthy in their greed,
spread over their delicious feast of flesh.
At their delicious meat they crudely hacked,
the spoiling skin a more enticing treat,
all chewy, more than if it were more fresh.

Sonnet CXXII

A true friend shall not use you for their aims
or curse you if you fail to serve them well.
A true friend isn’t jealous of your fame
or bitter, hearing new successes swell.
A true friend does you favours. And the game
the others play of selfish playback quells.
A true friend loves you through your flaws and frays
and comforts you in sickness and in Hell.

Does such a friend exist? I must say no.
It’s nice to think one has a friend like that.
But all of us have plans and goals and dreams;
we can’t serve others faithfully and know
the friendship’s symbiotic. Some are that,
but most reciprocate the very least.

Sonnet CX

When skies were black and dismal grey,
you raised me up and gave me happiness.
When all around my friends kept far at bay,
you won respect, then joyfulness for me.
When life was hectic – one dark, giant race,
you sorted out my troubles and my mess.
When pride began to show its haughty face,
you chided me and curbed my zealousness.

And better yet, you’re always there for me
and never need a favour or a fee.
Unwavering is your great loyalty,
transcending busyness or hapless deeds.
And always, you’re my trusted diary,
exposed for all – my dearest Poetry.

Sonnet CII

mosquito, flitting all about my room –
so devious and cunning – more than me
the femme fatale of nature – filled with glee
and with my blood still spinning at her loom –
her job it seems – to spin the dizzy room
her dyes enriched with her undying greed
and bloody red, of course obtained from me –
went splat and flew across the walls and room.

Another day I found a fallen One.
I buried It in Tissue, with great Fuss.
But then, remembering my splattered blood
that itchy night, in retribution, crushed
the little pest, between my angry thumbs.

Avenging me, Fall turned the rest to dust.

Sonnet LXXXIV

Persephone had painted all their heads
with artists’ eyes and nature’s finest brush.
In tow she had her paints and gentle touch,
to lightly prod and colour flower beds.

But what did she become? The Queen of Death.
Forced under earth to rule a new abode.
Instead of birds she heard sad, dismal odes,
instead of spreading life she smothered breath.

The virtuous work of poor Persephone
was lost to greed. While mothers mourned she thrived,
to new endeavours solemnly belied.
And lost in seasons, died to history.

But plants live on, eternally un-dead,
collecting bitter tears the Muses shed.

Sonnet LXIX

Come here…I have a secret for you now…
I’m dead. And have been for a decade’s time.
How I have watched you live your earthly life.
I have much now to tell you, friend of old…

You still disgrace the dead, you mortal sprite.
The zombie mummies resting in their tombs
are pleased not by your laughs – beware your doom.
The cemetery waits for those who smirk.

My lifetime’s work’s now yours to judge…who cares?
How good it is to be a murdered soul!
I care not what you think nor tricks you pull...
Now taunts are useless! I am cold and dead.

And now I only speak because you need
a soul to understand and soothe your greed.

Sonnet LIII

Get up, you lazy spawn of atrophy -
whose minds and bodies have no dignity.
You idle products of our selfish kind -
shut up, stop eating, talk but sensibly.

Please leave, and send us all to joy
You don’t deserve the treatment you employ.
We're worthy, but we rot and wait for beds,
While you take all, while you still do annoy.

It seems that folly and obesity,
Induced by sugars, fats, and dull T.V.
Beat brains and diligence and kindness too -
While purity has left society.

All lazy, stupid, ignorant, and fat.
What pulchritude! I can’t compare with that.

Sonnet XLI

Computer, get away, you make me weep!
You break all of my dreams and steal my sleep.
The Internet just makes you worse it’s just
Your evil partner, filled with greed and lust.

The Internet! How foul is that name!
My privacy and thoughts by you are maimed.
Away from me, you dour computer - now!
No sleep nor rest nor joy do you allow.

The Internet is full of ads and more;
Computers need their fixing – what a bore!
I hate and loathe you two – accomplices!
The two who rob my thoughts and laugh and hiss.

No calm nor rest nor freedom is allowed!
I’ll lock them up until both make no sound!