Category: Poetry

Je ne me comprends tout.
J’ai d’accord avec eux.

Lui, il a mal compris.
C’est vrai, son tête ouvris.

Mais, j’ai raison d’être.
Un grand artist être.

Je pratique tous les jours.
Imprimer tout mon cœur.

Quel dommage ce serait.
Manquer un fin qui m'était.

Children are mouthy plants.
We turn to cans their cant’s.
We tell them true; all what to do.
Then, they add their own slants.

All the generations;
From all far-flung nations…
They know these games; we’re all the same.
Time’s human undulations.

Renew, raise & reject.
Rinse, repeat & eject.
The young get old with stories told;
Inclusion not neglect.

Stack the family plot;
Immobile in its lot.
The oldest, there, no longer fair.
Tradition’s all they’ve got.

The end comes for us all.
Just hope for broken fall.
That on the way; a tidy lay…
would sweetly homeward call.

Live from the edge galactic radio.
Balance twixt the audi- & stereo.

Sound, music & muscle all come in waves.
Riding that line that infinity shaves.

We sang once; so, we will sing forever.
Who knew that sound-wave science was clever?

Around & round we spiral entropy.
Schrödinger’s Cat doesn’t care if we see.

No start, no stop…just hits on the hours.
Immortal songs from transmission towers.

Just as long you speak lastly.
Just admit that you’ve been ghastly.

Just say the words. Say, “I was wrong”.
Just be humble & go along.

Just once be warm & be grateful.
Just please stop out-lashing hateful.

Just have happy eyes filled with light.
Just knock off the chip & the fight.

Just be sure that your actions speak.
Unapologetic anger’s weak.

 I heard a phrase meaning drunk tonight & click!..ideas unfurled.
New, yet classic, wit described a man as, “…in the ‘spirit world’.”

I thought, “What a revelation to explain it all away”.
Serving it up with an entendre pun..brilliant closer play.

Imaginary family fights, where anthill shadows tower.
I’m listening, nodding & nudging, I should charge them by the hour.

I’ve had this much fun considering the spirit of a word.
I’m wondering where my next adventure is in what I’ve heard.

This is brought to you, ad-free, by apropos propaganda.
Just a bespoke pitch gleaned thru your “I Agree” memoranda. 

We can make it if we talk; but silences can kill.
Staying so pridefully mum saps everyone’s good will.

We should just lay it all out; yes, we should talk it thru.
Public praise & private criticism’s how we do.

No headway’s made when you’re waylaid imagining fights.
No harbored ways ease traveling days, if none think you’re right.

Too, secrets are no good long-term…they’re fierce poisonous.
Cancerous black holes of chokehold tension harming us.

You shot your shoot & missed; you were never near the court.
Up fly yet more walls, you’ll build your tomb out of your fort.

Celestial graveyards, our Galaxies.
Existential spontaneities.

My brief blink’s seen supernovas die.
Yet, bare, aware; to think…or ask, “why?”.

Fade swift from mind’s eye, REM dreams.
Still, waking science twists how real seems.

Too, whilst I strut, many things are born.
Many great primed lives felled by foul thorn.

Life’s beauty secret is constant death.
Phosphorous sight twixt first & last breath.

So, life has no meaning & we all die alone?
True or not; I’m no fan of the dramatic tone.

Give me the facts & don’t editorialize.
I can process cold truths without guides to advise.

I open my door, my mail, my heart & my self.
Yet, my blank old dance card gathers dust on yon shelf.

I have good manners, charm & occasional wit.
I’m nowhere near rich; nor am I a lazy tit.

I am truly singular…for best or better.
I’m meaning. I’m never alone, if I’ve letters. 

Some days paper planes just aren’t crafted.
Not a one paper ball in the basket.

No Damocles pencils hung overhead.
No doodles; no notes…no lines, live or dead.

My bandwidth unfettered with nowt to learn.
I’ve signal for miles; for dropped calls I yearn.

Efficience killed my procrastination.
It cant have my self-edification.

I finish my thoughts; production awaits.
Schedule harvests. I forget to be late. 

None of us are making it out of this world alive.
Some live accordingly; others ignorantly jive.

It doesn’t matter the riches in your bank balance.
Nor, is it of consequence how brilliant your talents.

You can go to space & leave this planet for stars.
Yet eventually, death fells all low & high bars.

You can devote all your time to life’s mysteries lost.
You can spend your days blithely oblivious of cost.

Still, you can choose gnosis of inevitable ends.
So, live in spite of death; until your grave’s rest he sends.