Missed the Boat

BEEEEEEP
*Emergency Broadcast*
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.
*Broadcast Ends*
——————–
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.



Down in Flames

Fight fire with fire. See
the flames kiss the sky.
Watch the sparks fly.
Feel the temperature
rise as cold weather
dies. Think back to
a time when the clouds
cried. Feel the heat
rip like a baseball
hitting a catcher’s mitt.
Poison swirls inside
a dormant mind.
Love stays on
the brain as hate
goes down the drain.
When life knocks,
do not be afraid
to open the door.
When the heat rises,
try not to go down
in flames. Save your-
self. Ask for help
before you strike
matches that will
turn all into ashes.



The Key

There are gatekeepers
that hold the key
to the kingdom –
the key to success.
They hold the key.
There are street sweepers
that hold guns and cuffs.
They hold the key.
There is a grim reaper
among the living.
He holds the key
to the afterlife.
With him, it’s on sight.
There are timekeepers
watching from the other
side. There are spirits
that know when to hide.
They hold the key
to the somber skies.
There are old leaders
driving imported cars.
They hold the key.
There are people
like you and me.
We, too, hold the key
that will, one day,
set our souls free.

Fade to Gray

Time continues to slip
through my gentle grip.
The clothes on my back
continue to get ripped.
My words get flipped.
Blue skies open wide
bringing those who hide
out into the holy light.
Blue skies seem to fade
to gray when the sun
goes away. I don’t mind
doing a little dance
under the thunder.
Days fade to gray
as rain drops drip
onto a vacant crypt.
All colors eventually
fade to gray. Evidently,
some shade is man-made.






Gray Days

Some days are gray days.
Dark clouds. Heavy rain.
No umbrella can help
us stay dry. Some days,
gray days fade to blue.
Most days, raindrops fall
turning seeds into trees.
Some days, the breeze
reminds us of the cold
world we occupy. We try
to get through the gray
days. On the worst days,
we find ways to follow
the light that pierces
the darkness. We have
seen many gray days.
We know it to be tough
when smooth becomes
rough. We know that
life has its ups, downs,
and roundabouts. Life
is full of green grass,
blue skies, gray days
and we are full of life.
Look past the haze;
do not let gray days
take the sunshine away.