to carve a mocking word

do you know what's wrong with our generation?
we don't carve big hearts into the bellies of big oaks
like our parents and grandparents did before us
we never painstakingly etch-out the initials of our lovers
is it because pocket knives no longer represent innocent boyhood revelry?
(see also: boxcutter terrorism)
or is it because we've witnessed too many of our childhood trees disappear
and we just can't be bothered anymore?

a child's first matinee

a looming theatre before his eyes
gaze fixed upon a velvet sea of red
still but a child entranced by its aisles
so in awe of it all, let it be said
booming voices fill the air with clamour
curtains rise to reveal a broad new world
his senses 'roused by all of the glamour
from lips to audience; tongues unfurled
villains and heroes and lovers' quarrels
his heart skips a beat; his breath surrenders
cruel ironies rest upon morals
captivated by stellar pretenders
that theatre taught him about romance
he'll never forget the casts performance

vengence

george bush jr.
the american public
the twin towers
drones
satellite footage
the CIA
pakastani intelligence

let's face it
osama bin laden
might be history's
greatest hide 'n go seek player
part of me hopes they took their time
the other part wonders what drove him to such extremes?