Goodbye West


Hello euthanasia,
Hello abortion.
Hooray for transgenders
Getting their portion.

Thanks for gay marriage.
Thanks so much, Congress.
Now we are making
Excellent progress.

Goodbye family,
And natural conception.
Hello death,
Here’s your reception.
Bye-bye babies.
You’re just foetuses anyway.
But save that egg:
Same-sex folk need it someday.

Meanwhile a few aggressors in the east,
Watch as the great western beast
Subsides in tides of liberal rapture
Following the leftists’ triumph and capture.

“They’re dying off! Now is our time.
America’s collapsing in her prime.
She’s killing babies and old people unaware
That our population overflows here.
She’s filled with couples who can’t reproduce!
It doesn’t take a fool to deduce
That now’s our chance! They’re outnumbered ten to one.
Every man to his plane. Go grab your gun.”

Goodbye West. In God you trusted.
You’ve changed your ways. Now you’re busted.

A Sianian Lay for the Man That Comes of Age


My Father, I seek my kingdom.
Mira’um ki camaë, za!
My Father, I would have joy of days.
Lamnai ki ichthus hainai.

My son, belike you must become a man.
Mira’um ki camaë, za!
Grit your teeth and earn your land.
Lamnai ki ichthus hainai.

My Father, my heart is stirred within me.
Mira’um ki camaë, za!
Without her, I cannot bear to be.
Lamnai ki ichthus hainai.

My son, peril fills your road this day.
Mira’um ki camaë, za!
Your childhood now must fall away.
Lamnai ki ichthus hainai.

For sad is the woman indeed
Who becomes the mother of one
Because she has married in haste
My hapless, idle son.

My Father, I seek my kingdom.
Mira’um ki camaë, za!
And embrace my duty, else hope grows dim.
Lamnai ki ichthus hainai.

May the God above see my toiling.
May all men respect my true manhood.
May the God above, my work rewarding
At last grant me all things good.

Mira’um ki camaë, za!
Mikinyai rn na mahn bou calam.
Lamnai ki ichthus hainai.
Lemnak inra sauh keperimii.

Authors and Memory


When I edit lots
My brain gets fried
And I forget things
Like (a) whether or not I had a coffee;
(b) What my name is;
(c) What the time is;
(d) Whether I stopped for that red light or not;
(e) What the name of this student in front of me is,
And (f) why I’m an author.

When I write,
My memory improves.
I remember point (f).

A Youth’s Plea


When the world is untainted,
All our ideals unspoiled,
Our dreams intact,
And the perfection of our experiences
Golden and crimson
In the colours of vivifying autumn:
God, keep us from being harsh
To those who have been hurt,
Who have failed so badly they feel
They cannot get up again.
God, give us imagination
Where we have no understanding.
God, give us compassion.

For there is nothing so horrible
As naivety paired with intolerance.
Naivety can be forgiven.
Intolerance cannot.

Little Kid Logic


“You don’t look right.
You normally wear a skirt.”
This, accompanied by near hyperventilation.

“I haven’t seen you for
Like, fifteen years!”
This, after a ten week break from lessons with you.

“I’m going to quit singing lessons
Because I’m going to audition for the X-factor.”
And this makes sense how?

“I need a music stand.”
The child laboriously props her music up on the stand.
She then proceeds to stare at the music
You’re playing from, which is resting on the piano.

“I practised this song this week.”
But that song wasn’t part of his exam program –
And his exam is in five days.

It’s lunchtime, and you’re just wrapping up the lesson.
The bell rings.
The student decides it’s time for the lesson to end,
So she stands on the music stool and shrieks
“BELL!” in your ear,
Thereby lessening your lifespan by ten years.

Teaching is for survivors.

Rachmaninov’s Piano


An old and new kind of magic
Is the music of Rachmaninov,
A man of pain and purpose,
Who knew the grief of the heart,
And the power of the will.
I will listen and have my fill
Of chords of blood and sunlight,
Of anathemas in the night
Of the cries no one hears
Of the beauty, crystal cold,
Written in tears.

Here was a man who went to Hell
And was retrieved after three years.
Here was a man who –
Perhaps without a thought for God –
Was gifted by His Creator some of heaven’s
Greatest paeans and the prophets’ greatest laments.
Here was man who wrote from the depths of his soul
With dark, navy lines, profound and intense.