Of coins and choices

How does it turn,
who rolled the die on your name?
Were you there when it creaked and stopped?
No? Me neither what a shame.

Who blows the wind,
who stocks and switches my dreams?
Whoever held a river in his palm,
who ever cut the little streams?

Is there a source,
do we walk to it or away?
The landmarks can see you
turning night and day.

Yet nobody loses
for long around here
The winners are easy to tell
but losers, don't fear.

You will live as well,
you will have your girl,
and money to feed her ass,
and vase and crockery to hurl.

Beware, what goes around is lost.
And although you've all along tried,
the toss that turns in the sun does never
know or choose the winning side.

gardenal sin

and then He shouted, the apple was a curse
your race shan't ever be pure
the fall has begun to an end much worse
than death, for knowledge hasn't cure

your sin is tall, your love the deepest pit
my guinea little rodents, look, that's it
creation is for me, you are blasphemy now
get off my lawn, go, don't fake the bow

the apple lay still, a brain whirred on
lone and bereft but a hefty intellect
and as if a spark then hit right home,
Newton got up and took a bow and left

Up, Up and Abe!!

The shoelace stuck to the ground all taut
      while I lifted off in the air.
My arms rose bare to a pose mid-air,
      "Superman!" shouted someone I swear.
But my other foot was there weighing heavy on the lace
      and the ground ran bam in my hair.

Heavy lights

not a fist and not a thigh
nor a twist of cracking dry
bone or muscle, neck or thumb
could i wrestle out of a numb
nerve when i saw the light
curve to me on a road too tight