This is in very rough shape as I just woke up and it rolled off my pen this morning, but I want to post it before the day runs away from me:
Thirty-nine years ago
I was without form and void
In the darkness of my mother’s womb
I could have been anyone
But for a lone warrior who
Fought against the odds
To win the battle and claim his prize
Fate, my eternally talented torturess
Spiked my drink with lust for life
And like a hungry bear
I devoured fortune’s sweet kiss
Made love to her sister, the moon
Embraced her brother, the sun
Thirty-nine years is but
A pimple on the face of time,
A fleeting moment through
the hourglass
If today should be my last
I can, in truth, say it is a
Good day to die
But before you cut the string
My talented torturess
Can I have one more pint
With my mates?
Hello and happy birthday! I love this poem – very thought provoking, and a great ending. Here, have a pint on me…
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(I spent years of training to get this good at graphics)
Oh dear, my beer mug handle seems to have fallen into the glass…
hi mad lass, thanks for the virtual beer.
peace,
clay
I missed the celebration, but you are never far from my thoughts dear one.
Hugs and kisses
Clay, I must say. I’ve only just clicked onto your page and from what I see, ur a poet! God Damn (excuse my blasphomy for I am also a good catholic) but your birthday poem seems almost autobiographical to me. Tell you something. Next time I have the pleasure of serving you, the erdinger/kasteel Cru/anything is on me!
Peace
Jamie
Hi Jamie,
Thanks bro. I’ll take you up on that Kasteel Cru!