August 21, 2007

my birthday poem

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?

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