the sonnet

constant as the burning sun in vegas
are the phases of the life of RK

yep, as evidenced in the two lines above, the sonnet is now on of my phases. figure why should Shakespeare be the only one to write 154 sonnets. while his vocabulary is a bit more robust and his mastery of verse highly superior, i think the universe won't know what hit it once the 155 sonnets of RK materialize out of thin air (slowly of course).

see the sonnet section

my quazi-brother

this famous poem about the closest thing I've ever had to a brother is now on the family matters page

my artistic handicap or the mortal struggle

whenever i start rhyming
i try to elevate my thoughts
rose-colored are my narratives
making spiritual when not

i want to write a poem
about my mario soiree
but my default writing style
to lecture's in the way

what tends to be a fun goal
all super mario to win
i deride and chide and argue
that somehow this must be a sin

interesting how prevalent
my life is filled with guilt
if it's not the Church or scriptures
i force my blooming fun to wilt

try as i might it seem i can't
have introspective fun
it's levity or spiritual
no in between, i'm done

my conquering will continue
and i'll refrain to write a poem
i'll struggle every time i play
my constant struggle on my mortal roam

my rhyming will continue
with a meta-physical look
my artistic worldly handicap
in case Jesus reads my book

in her belly

a sacrifice of body
but more a sacrifice of soul
the spirit and the body
both afflicted on the whole
the connotation's off
but the concept is correct
in her belly is a parasite
and it puts my wife through heck
nausea and vomiting
and trips to see the doc
flattened bladder syndrome
she gets to waddle instead of walk
a dive to depths of worry
pregnant glow displaced by fear
a blimp in our existence
but still three-quarters of a year
now the parasite will grow
and in time it will say hi
will evolve into a he or she
no doubt will make her parents cry
and laugh, and sing, and giggle
lots of kisses, hugs, and grins
what once was just a barrier
now my happiness does win
the joy it lasts eternal
with a dip when she's a teen
overall there is a benefit
but still a parasite it seems
a parasite of pocketbook
follows the parasite of time
and then the parasite has offspring
and that parasite's not mine

a hearty welcome

finally the day has arrived for posting of the poems that seem to surface during my life. nothing too special. archives will be the pages on the side filed by their respective topic and posts will contain all of the new stuff. enjoy and comment away.