Category Archives: Fate

Disjointed Immigration Sonnet

I wonder how the administrators

Who separate fathers from daughters

& mothers from sons, feel about their chores:

Parts of the machine of fam’ly slaughter

How does it feel to somebody else lie

Who doesn’t understand the king’s English

(I’ll bet it’s like being cruelty’s bright spy

Enforcing the decrees of injustice!)

&, coming out of His church on Sunday,

The Baptist bureaucrat just smiles

For He is rendering onto Pilate

The laws of man, in lawyer-ese, by miles

& we who watch these crimes aghast smugly

Know that at their heart, our laws are ugly

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Brooklyn Murder Suicide Sonnet

When Falling In Love we ourselves extend

Hearts sending out tender capillaries

To fertilize love for a sweeter trend

& dodging loneliness’s vagaries

But maybe one cannot live up, you know

To the amorous baggage therein

The dream Cupid looses from his bow

Is a strange love song on a theramin

What becomes of amorous delusions?

Reality rumbles from the tunnel

& all that remains are his illusions

His dreams & her body are then pummeled

Brooklyn Subway Murder-&-Suicide

Pulls to eternity the lies they tried

http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/ny-metro-couple-killed-train-murder-suicide-brooklyn-20180727-story.html

Calculated Risks Sonnet

We all take calculated risks each day
To remind us that we are living free
Most of the time there is nothing to pay
But, occasionally, our luck does flee

We should all lament all of the accidents
That our foolish pride leads us to create
Fatal or criminal, they never relent:
We play with chance, until we meet our fate  

The liabilities that, carelessly,
We bring into our individual
Universes: both thought & thoughtlessly
Pay people eternal residuals

This man will never be at liberty
To make the mistakes of chance & then flee

“Motorcyclist killed after blowing stop sign, crashing into SUV in Queens” http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/nyc-crime/ny-motorcyclist-killed-suv-queens-crash-20180721-story.html

Suicidal Bank Robber Sonnet

‪‪Isn’t most bad behavior suicide‬

‪Of a spiritual or moral sense?‬

‪The addictive criminal crimes are pride‬

‪Trying to embellish our egos’ thence‬

For we have been duped into desiring

“All The Cash & Prizes” of the venal

We are told it’s things to be aspiring

& hence we then provoke the criminal

The end of this lie’s line was a bullet

In a public bathroom’s lonely confines

Through the depressed brain (beneath a mullet

For I believe suicide’s Out-of-Style!)

Everyday I see someone quitting

(Not in the positive way befitting!)

‪”Suspect in nine bank robberies kills self after one last

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime/ny-news-bank-robbery-suspect-kills-self-20180722-story.html‬

Self Pity Sonnet

The unrelenting exhaustion I feel

Is the sum total of my self pity

An amorphous weight that despair does seal

Rhyming this observation is shitty

While I am painfully aware of it

(My proclivity for melancholy)

I cannot seem to be free of this shit

(Such is the modern bourgeoisie’s folly)

While I might appear to be paranoid

Seeing enemies in familiar faces

These grim thoughts help to fill depression’s void

Cementing me in these dreary places

I do not feel worthy of these feelings

Garish 1st World problems have me reeling

Reality Sonnet From Photo

All the realities that we enjoy
Are merely some thin projections’ shadow:
What’s seen by us are visions we deploy
From the base existences that we know

The concrete reality that we see
From gentle breezes to birds & buildings
Are things that are & things we just believe
Existence is consciousnesses’ gildings

While it is painfully obvious that

There is an external reality

Within which we are all totally trapped

Without beliefs is falls to frailty

Here I have spent some time meditating

On the nature of truth: start berating

Lost Sonnet Sonnet

I wrote a sonnet on an envelope

About the scope of my students writing

I’d just read an exploration of Hope

In beginner’s rough English challenging

The essay before that one was superb

Exploring determinism using

A Kurt Vonnegut book absurd

In these papers was the range of learning

Alas, I stuffed envelope unopened

Into the pocket of my cargo shorts

It had my membership card that they send

When you donate MoMA ǝʞıן a sport

Those fourteen lines about my students’ work

Are lost forever, I feel like a jerk