Love doesn’t have to die. Don’t let
your light fade. Even if it flickers,
it’s still progress made. Think of
the steps you took. Look around.
Stay strong. Your light will shine,
or at least, glow. Love will grow.
I could be wrong, but who knows?
Allow the fire, from within, to burn
away any hate left on your plate.
Unleash the beast. Remove the leash.
Don’t lose that pep in your step.
Moving forward is your best bet.
Don’t rest until you feel your best.
Stay in the fight. You’re doing great.
Let your light illuminate the sky
before, during, and after the sunrise.
Get off the mainland. Unidentified aircrafts have overtaken the island and are launching, what appears to be, green goo all over buildings, causing them to melt on contact. There are too many aircrafts to count. All boats have departed. Those of you left, hurry to the last departing boat. I repeat – get off the mainland.
I wake up. I get ready to leave.
I slap on some causal clothes.
Dress shoes: I don’t need those.
I look up and notice the time.
I have 30 minutes to get to
the last boat. The mainland is
sinking, and I can’t float. Hope
is shrinking. Without thinking,
I rush to the dock with a bad
back and a knapsack. I approach
the dock with holes in my socks.
I see a light fading in the mist.
I get the gist. I missed the boat.
I drop to my knees. I curse
the skies and the stars above.
Seconds later, a flying saucer
takes shape of a loving dove
that spits green slime in my eye.
I wipe my face. I see a light.
No way this can be right.
The dove transforms back
into a flying saucer. A black-
eyed, small, frail, lifeform
comes flying out its door and
has its hands around my neck.
I jam my thumb in its green
head until, well, you know,
it was dead. Not after long,
I climb in the vacant saucer.
Just like that, I was a goner.
I may have missed the boat,
but I killed an alien and flew
to places only NASA knew
about. It was a better route.
Now, I stay put in Area 51,
where I hide from the sun.
Hey. You! Yeah! You.
Move. Take a step.
Take a chance. Move.
Buy a new pair
of dancing shoes.
Find a different
groove. Don’t be
afraid to lose.
When you play,
pay your dues.
Move. It’s much
better when you
get to choose.
Keep on dancing
for your love is
There is nothing
for you to prove.
My finger is on the button.
Let me know when to press
it. One finger can change
everything. A single bomb,
when inside its proximity,
causes utter dysfunction
due to its mass destruction.
Leaving nothing but rubble,
a bomb will cause trouble.
When there is nothing left
but fragments of the past,
a thriving history surely
will not last. After a blast,
the surviving buildings
are just sad shadows cast.
Tell me when. I’ll press it.
When it is pressed, know
that’s when war begins
as peace is put to rest.
The rubber met the road. The pedal hit the metal.
Raindrops filled the kettle. The explorer did not settle.
The peasant earns Shekels. Many faces wear frowns.
Some attendees heckled. The rubber met the road.
The host ended the show. Robots speak morse code.
Frogs claim to be toads. The snakes in the grass
slither fast as the blades cut and the blinds shut.
In life, follow your sight and do what is right.
Trust your gut. Pretend that you did not just hit
a dead end. Go spend time before time spends
you. It is time to lose the shoes and move out
of the way of the kicking boot. I mean, shoot.
Time to turn around. We are not quite ready
to sing the blues, read the news, or face
the fact that we must pay off our debt.
Just turn around and you will be free: set.