Poem of the Week: Who Am I?

POTW  - Who am I

“I’m not Sam who likes green-eggs and ham,

I’m neither Garfield, Calvin, Dragonball-Z, nor He-man.

I’m not a Redskins or Chelsea fan,

I’m not any kind of sportsfan,


I am my blood, my genes, my race,

All those reflect in my face,

I’m my father, my brother, my mentors, three,

Their thoughts repeated near verbatim by me,


I am am pain, joy, bliss, and agony,

Man of clay, with all faculties,

Insanely sane, or maybe the opposite is true,

Know I myself, better than you?


Actually, what it is that I am,

Is quite plain to see,

For in the end,

I am who I chose to be.”


Poem of the Week: Calculations

gears turning

“How do you calm a mind that never sleeps?

Constantly abuzz like the New York streets,

Always searching, sifting, calculating,


Finding meaning in the most minute of details,

Especially if those details are meaningless,

Especially if they aren’t.


My mind calculates way less than it used to,

There’s much less it needs to do,

Experience has installed a spam filter.”



Gedicht der Woche: Auf der Spree

“Eines heiβen Tages, lagen wir auf der Spree,

Endlich könnten wir ihn genieβen, ein Tag ohne Schnee,

Der Himmel war hellblau, die Sonne heiss, und Lippen weich,

Da waren zuzweit, und leicht verging die Zeit,

Auf dem Weg zurück, führen wir zuerst mit dem Zug,

Da wurde uns etwas gesagt, von einer die sehr “weltklug”,

Ihr Ausdrück war so sauer, sie sagte es nach einer Pause,

Wir lachten darüber, “Hey! Habt ihr kein Zuhause?”,

Es gingen langsam, um niemanden zu verletzen,

Denn wir wüssten uns zusammen zu schätzchen.”


Poem of the Week: When You Find Your Mission

“When you find your mission, a better man you’ll be,

The effect’s not immediate, nor plain to see,

Rather it creeps on you, inevitably,

Its affect renews you, steadily,

Until one day you realize what is, that you were born to do,

Go where no man has before, discover the ultimate truth,

And with a hunger you pursue all avenues,

Nought but constraints of time can even limit you,

Your mind runs wild, you no longer feel an ennui,

Life is something of which you can’t get enough to eat,

And there you have it, chained by your dreams,

The cage is lifted and you finally feel free.”


Poem of the Week: Haiku

In hindsight, I realize my last poem of the week about the petite Colombian girl did not sound as good as I thought.

In penance, I submit to you my first attempt at Haiku, a Japanese style of poem. That is, I must write three sentences with five syllables in the first, seven in the second, and five again in the last sentence.

“The path forward’s tough,

The reward’s indeed worth it,

I won’t be the same.”


Poem of the Week: Petite Colombian Girl

“Girl number two, Colombian girl,

POF first, skype second,

Invited her to stay the night to my house,

We fucked twice,

Woke up,

I bought breakfast, she cooked it,

We fucked,

Went Kayaking,

We fucked on the island we Kayaked to,

Went back,

I bought her lunch at Jonny Rockets,

Never saw her again,

She has a boyfriend now.”