The allure of hanging
Like an old-timey suit
Is just that.
Poetry for the waste-bin,
Ready for the Goodwill.
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The allure of hanging
Like an old-timey suit
Is just that.
Poetry for the waste-bin,
Ready for the Goodwill.
I accept this temporary fate
In faith with the sun
In faith with the moon
In faith with the stars
Sinking through the ether
To rise like Roman candles
In the gasp of morrows yonder wake
Two squirrel play
a fun little game of cat and mouse.
Both scurrying up the tree,
diving face first from branch to branch.
Like little cannons they shoot
back and forth between tree limbs.
One wagging it’s tail, the other
feigning ignorance, like two lovers
they quarrel, never knowing really
who’s cat, and who’s mouse.
Or what started all this in the first place.
Don’t know how long I’ll be back,
but I am now. It’s like
waking in a movie theatre
while the credits roll and suddenly
everything and nothing’s changed.
You don’t know what everyone else saw
but you’ll take their word for it.
And with arms akimbo they just watch
you pocket your hands and head home.
So if I don’t see you today, then tomorrow
perhaps we’ll go swimming? And maybe
for just a while we can pretend
that I never left us in the first place,
and that this was all a dream, and that
starting over didn’t have to mean the end.
There’s something happening when
There’s nothing left to lose—
The apple of the eye
Is begging for the truth—
I admit, it’s possible but
The language that we use—
To disengage, it’s all the same
Our fears of being used.
There’s something distinct in the
Absence of yourself—
Like when you manifest
Your love in someone else—
He’ll seem incapable but
The patterns that you choose—
To disengage, it’s all the same
Our fears of being used.
Now there’s a sinner and saint on the corner of the block
One’s got a rifle in hand believing that he’s God
They’re both wrapped warm in the bliss of ego-manic thought
To disengage, it’s all the same
Believing that it’s not.
It’s been a lonely walk home
Each step a calamity
Towards Nirvana
A
play
doesn’t
work
without
the
audience.
I’ve got the words
Just not the plot
The characters though
I’ve never forgot
Tied like a thread
Sincerely knot,
Your Biggest Fan—
To have and have not.
To some today’s today.
To others, today’s a destiny.
Funny eh!
How when you put yourself to sleep
like a baby, you sleep like a baby…