Hitler Died with a Smile on His Face

As he came into the bunker,
the night in which he died,
Hitler walked into his foyer,
to think about his life.

And pondering the world he made,
the war, the camps, the Jews,
the bureaucrats handing down fate
to the weak and the few,
he brought the pistol to his head,
as cyanide he did taste,
and in a chuckle, he was dead –
with a smile on his face.


High School, 7000 BC

Intelligence, Wisdom, Knowledge, and God
met in the first months of ninth grade.
Without much ado, a friendship was wrought,
over lunches spent in the sun and shade.

There, they’d debate some dense affair.
(It always seemed a bit precocious to me.) –
Knowledge would arise first and declare,
all the facts “that there could be”.

Intelligence would then shift his seat about,
and proffer scenarios with questions, deep.
While Wisdom would decide, without a spout,
then look at God, who had often fallen asleep.

In time, the four grew up and went their ways.
Though some say they still talk now and then.
But if truth be told, this sad truth I say:
only Wisdom and God remain good friends.

Freedom Dies By Suicide! (Obituary on A 2)

Dear Readers,

Freedom died last night,
at the age of three hundred, three.
He left his children and his wife,
with nothing but their dreams.

He was found near a glass of gin,
and books piled to the lights,
(It was a lady friend who found him –
at a quarter past midnight.)

Though details are still to come,
The facts, as they are, imply:
Freedom did not die by the gun.
He died by suicide.


The other day I saw a child,
while others saw, none.
I watched him laugh, loud and wild,
and smile like the sun.

And when I saw his face so near –
for a moment on the screen,
I realized then what some may fear:
that even God has dreams.

The Forty-Five Million

I smile when I see their faces,
forty-five million, black and white,
those who rest softly in their places,
and keep women up at night.

Now, I’m not one for mighty thoughts,
nor those laws written by older men.
But why have love and hold it not?
And when does love begin?

And I may be simple. I may be trite.
(I know not when this all will end).
I just know that without this plight,
I’d have another friend.

I want another friend.

Translation of Persian Text from 7th Century

Oh men of future, oh men of hope,
We Persian kings of old now write,
A warning to you men remote,
Listen well. And Listen right.

When the gods you long defame,
And their temples break; deform,
When you forsake your fathers’ graves,
And treat the city guards with scorn.

When pagan pleasures you condone,
And build pyres to the northern lights,
When with wine you ever groan,
And long visit women of the night.

When your honor fades and melts,
And every oath becomes unsworn –
Then you will know just how we felt,
Before the greatest war.


Oh sons of stars which burn so bright,
who know no truth nor just God,
lead us now amid this gods’ twilight,
to lands ye sages have come to trod.

And when we reach your land’s purlieu,
and hear men killing men, but of dust,
‘twill be no surprise to us who knew,
that it was, and would be ever thus.