Something better

It’s annoying that we can’t think of things that we can’t think of.

 

Imagine if there was thing better than love.

A special kind of feeling to give even love a shove.

Made you feel warmer than even love would.

Made the future look brighter than even love could.

Made you smile more than even in love you should.

Compared to it even love wouldn’t feel that good.

 

Made you lose your sleep and not care.

Made the sun shine more than its fair share.

Made food taste better whatever it was.

Made everything better, just because.

All this like love but just way better.

Compared to a lovebird you’d be a happy setter.

Something so big, it doesn’t fit my brain.

Something to pull the crazy back to sane

Or the other way around if it’s anything like love.

 

I think I’d call it something real bubbly

Not unlike bubble, but bubbliness doubly.

If it had a name it’d also be strong.

Saying it aloud would never be wrong.

 

If this feeling was, when would it happen?

Would it come when your hands were a-clappin’?

Would it come when you were all quiet?

Would it come if you had a friendly riot?

Would it come when you build something well?

Would it come if you learn how to spell?

I don’t think so and I do know why.

We have a feelings that already apply.

Then, when would it come? I don’t know.

What it would feel like? I don’t know.

How long would it last? Beats me so.

Would you feel empty without? I think no.

 

If you can come up with this nice thing.

Please do tell, it’ll give thoughts wing.

If you can invent how it would feel,

Please tell me, I’ll thank you with zeal.

We can’t think of things not in our life,

Including this, which fills me with strife.

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If I had a tail

It’d be fun.

 

If I had a tail, it’d be pretty nifty,

Not an inch long, but closer to fifty.

 

One with a grip that holds things well,

Like a big, sturdy branch if I slipped and fell,

While climbing an oak with my brand new appendage

And talking to flyies in their flighty bird language.

 

I could also cook and read while I walk.

The hand holds the book and the tail bakes the hawk

I could flambé and grill and braise.

While learning about an intellectual craze.

 

I could play the guitar while drinking a beer.

Hydrate myself, no messing-up fear.

Would take no breaks while doing a gig.

I’d just shred and tap and swig.

 

I could do a backflip with a simian style.

It’d look so silly it’d make you smile.

With a big tail you can change your spin.

It’s a bit better than your arm or your shin.

 

I could hug a friend extra, extra tight.

They’d feel even warmer, even quite.

I could lift them up much easier than before.

Hold them tight and high till my tail got sore.

 

I’d do these things if I got it in the mail.

I’d do them all, with my nifty new tail.

Altered names

I like people’s names and playing with them.

 

If there was an actor who knew magic,

By learning hard or by something tragic.

If he was known for his bare magic rage,

He would be called Nicholas Mage.

 

If there was an actor with a face like a wound,

To the injury world his face is attuned.

He would be covered in reds and blues.

I think his name would be Tom Bruise.

 

If there was an actor who was a great, big orca,

And lived his life off the coast of Majorca.

If you could hear his watery wail,

He should be called Christian whale.

 

If there was an actor who lived in legend,

If his life was almost imagined,

In the real world there’s only a fifth.

I think I’d just call him: Will Myth.

 

If there was a scientist who sold you goods.

Like towels and sheets and tasty, tasty foods.

If the selection in his shop made your eyes really sore,

He would’ve been called, the great Niels Store.

 

If there was a scientist who really loved sports,

If he dominated all tennis and basket courts,

If you fought him and got destroyed,

He’d be called Sigmund steroid.

 

If there was a scientist who carried people,

He’d take them home from the church’s steeple.

On his back you could sleep and discuss,

He’d be called Nicholas CoperniBus.

 

If there was a cool scientist who liked hijinks,

If he switched your pet cat with a lynx,

In the gag-committee he held the top rank.

He’d be called wily, old Max Prank.

 

If there was a leader who was never on time,

Being constantly late would be his crime.

Sometimes you’d wait an hour or eight.

He’d be called Alexander the Late.

 

If there was a leader who liked the cold,

He’d value snow quite more than gold.

He’d be a sucker for a winter-come teaser.

He’d be called Julius Freezer.

 

If there was a leader who always shone,

If his personal light would warm your bone,

If he was the most luminous fella,

He’d be called Nelson Candela.

 

If there was a leader who wanted to fly,

If the blue sky really made him sigh.

If he had feathers and to white he was drawn,

He’d be called Genghis Swan.

Wasteland night

I thought about Fallout 2, a game from which I learned most of my English.

 

If I was a wasteland warrior of will,

I’d wander and wait and wander until,

The wasteland night came with its cold chill,

Enveloped the vastness, whipped it still.

 

I’d construct my camp, cook up a chalet

To keep the creeping cold at bay.

Make a campfire, take my pot of clay.

Cook some grub at the end of the day.

 

Some rats and radscorpions, that’s my meal.

Some deathclaw meat, it’s the real deal.

A swig of rotgut for the burning feel.

And a cat’s paw, the pages now peel.

 

Some rad-x to keep the rads at bay.

Radaway evicts the ones who stay.

A super stimpack for the death delay.

A whiff of jet so the shakes go away.

 

One Nuka-Cola to take away the rasp.

It’s so cold it makes me gasp.

I fumble at my leather jacket’s coppery clasp.

It as a pillow and my gun in my grasp.

 

I go to sleep and dream of home:

Up in the north where the geckos roam.

It’s called Arroyo, that’s my home.

They need my help, I’m Cincinnatus, They’re Rome.

 

The village is dying, they need the G.E.C.K.

It’ll bring paradise with lost, forgotten tech.

I’m in a hurry, can’t waste one sec.

Hakunin’s in my dreams to keep me in check.

 

I wake up to the sound of a growl.

Grab my rifle and start to prowl.

I see a floater, looking quite foul.

Like a spore plant with a red, guts towel.

 

I take aim and fire my gun.

The laser lights the desert like the sun.

The floater burns and soon it’s gone.

I stay still but can’t see none.

 

My wounds are healed by my peaceful sleep.

I start to break camp when I hear a soft weep.

A Wanamingo is there, a brown little creep.

With ten friends, that’s just cheap.

 

I laser two down and try to run away

Trip on a log on this beautiful day.

They rush me, their tentacles flay

Eat me alive on the ground of clay.

 

I’m not the hero, my village is dead.

Their sole hope just lost its head.

Arroyo dried out, the drought just spread.

They should’ve chosen someone else instead.

Snowy forest

Walking in the forest is pretty fun.

 

Today I walked with my dog in the snow.
In the black forest, the woods of the crow.
The snow is clean with a nice, hard crust.
I don’t fall through, in the snow I trust.
There’s some prints of a squirrel and a hare.
A pine cone over there, eaten all bare.
Some needles of a spruce, so very green.
And all the white snow, sparkling clean.
The air’s so crisp that it stings my nose.
I can feel it bite on my fingers and my toes.
The dog doesn’t care, he’s full of joy.
Getting all the smells, who’s a good boy?
The tracks and the needles all worth a whiff.
With every scent there’s a loud new sniff.
A mound in the snow and he goes for a mark.
Same goes double for the giants of bark.
Then there’s a mound that’s really quite big.
A pile of snow that he starts to dig.
Scoopity scoop and then he growls
Barks two times and then he howls.
The mound starts to move and to shake and stir.
Under the ancient, tall, green fir.
It’s a snow troll, white and drowsy.
Just woken up, feeling very lousy.
They’re quite rare but here there’s one.
I’ve never seen one so this is quite fun.
They’re not too wild but can hurt you.
In that way quite like a small gnu.
They taught us how to soothe them in school.
I knew how as I’m not a big fool.
Didn’t look at him, you can’t do that.
And with a voice of a normal chat:
”Mene peikko poes elä meille ruppee
Pistä se vihas siihen tunnetuppee.”
He grinned me his fun, snow-white grin.
Then went back to the dream he was in.
As I got home I told mom about the troll.
She was glad I’d made it back whole.
She made a call to the troll sighting line.
They’d send someone to make a big sign.
People will now know to stay well away.
That’s one good thing we did this day.

A chat with a stranger

People are wonderful.

 

A stranger talked to me today

This is what she had to say:

Do you play Dota? I do too!

I could guess by the shirt on you!

I really like that game like you, you see

Will you sit and chat with me?

I said “Sure!” and had a soft seat.

I just came from a bite to eat.

We had a chat and a very good time.

A random chat, almost sublime.

A random chat filled me with a smile.

A random chat with a gamery style.

A random chat that was quite ok.

And by ok I mean made my day.

 

I try to learn from all that I see.

And this here chat taught something to me.

It’s good to reach out to people you meet.

In any way that makes you tweet.

Talk to everyone if you feel there’s a reason.

Talk to everyone, it’s always in season.

It’s ok to give this a good chance:

Don’t treat your likes with a strong askance.

Flaunt your hobbies and likes and loves.

It’ll help you free your happiness doves.

If not by making you fixate on them more

Then by helping people in the loneliness war.

 

Wall climbing

I went today, it was fun.

 

I looked up and wondered if I could

Thought for a moment and knew that I would.

Left foot there, right foot here

Grip that and that and have no fear.

My fingers shake and my nails start to crack.

I can feel the burn in my arms and my back.

I almost fall and my heart just stops

My grip hold and some joint pops.

There’s a sharp pain that I don’t feel

Too busy climbing like a vertical eel.

Finally I fall but I have the rope.

I rest while wondering what I grope.

Fix my foot and search for a hold

Pounce like a cat, quick and bold.

Slip and fall and hit my knee

I don’t care, try number three.

Third times the charm as we all know

I’m all the way up and I just glow.

Go back down and try thrice more.

My mind is flying and my body is sore.

When my grip softens to that of a child

Pain in my cheeks because I smiled.

I forgot there’s a ton of things to do

When my fingers were busy turning blue.

I didn’t remember to feel no good

When I tried and I noticed I could.

I didn’t worry about anything at all

When I was too busy climbing a wall.