Why Say Why?
Man always seeks knowledge...to know...to understand.
Sometimes the prize demands a horrible price: 1945 Japan.
Today, rumors hint of biological weapons capable of decimating the
entire planet and the controversy of cloning and genetic research is
ongoing.
Aren't some secrets best left alone?
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Why Say Why?
Once upon a rhyme
In a world past hope and fear
There were clocks that would not chime,
Turtles that ran like deer;
Hockey was played by chickens,
Chess by rocks,
Services were held in trees by bees
And centipedes wore socks;
Suddenly a man appeared
Dressed in a suit and tie,
The one thing most feared
Was that he might ask ‘why?’;
A great cloud descended from above
Enveloping his head,
Thinking aloud he questioned it,
Immediately, the cloud was dead;
Then a three-toed worm flew by
Landing on a fresh, steel pie;
He looked at it and asked it, “Why?”
It screamed as it began to die;
Now, another man arrived,
Clad in neon white;
The first man withdrew a bit,
Cowering in fright;
He asked the man, “Why?”
His voice no longer caught,
The stranger passed him by,
Turned, and said, “Why not?”
The inquisitor clutched his head,
Crumbling in pain,
“What was that you said?”
He never spoke again;
Creatures crowded ‘round the man in white,
They really had no plan,
“Why did he die?” they mumbled in fright,
“Curiosity killed the man.”
© Tony Valuch
1976 |
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Bloodrushes
Bloodrushes...those moments we all have....when senses are
heightened, feelings rage, emotions charge us up till the
hardest thing in the world is to stay in control...those moments....
we must know fear, anger, love, lust, shame, helplessness,
laughter, ecstasy... those moments...
....Blood Rushes
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Bloodrushes
Blood rushes anxiously,
Flooding fragile corridors,
Crash-cleaning branching highways
Like some brazen, rebellious youth:
Strutting with pride,
Hot, humid air
Filling flaring nostrils;
Body-bags bursting,
Bone-touching-bone,
Morphing into frenzy
Like some lackluster pool:
Gulping champagne rain,
Soaking up suds,
Healthy. Real. Alive!
Anger breeds in bliss,
Its foul progeny laugh,
Spit in civilized contempt
Like some wine-soaked,
Unshaven, unclean, uncouth,
Transient, gutter-schooled
Professor of poverty;
Eyes bulge obscenely,
Pallid orbs frozen,
Locked on target
Like some sweet innocent,
Mama-pampered, father-guided,
Run-of-the-mill, average
Teenager busted for pot;
Grin-trace creeps,
Streaks cross a flushed,
Reddening facescape
Like some modest maiden:
Newly-wedded, never-bedded,
Consumed in celebration,
Filled with anticipation;
Years, hours, and minutes
Are measured in experience:
The realm of bloodrushes.
© Tony Valuch
1988 |
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