The brilliance and stupidity
of one lone soul
can unleash a myriad of question,
that which need, not always
be answered by anyone,
not even The Wild.
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Tag Archives: question
The butterfly in question
The butterfly in question
Steady flapping wings
A frenzy of direction
Who does not question me
I believe, I believe, I believe in you
I’ve a laundry list of confessions
like the phases of the moon
Sometimes they pose a question
sometimes they propose two
I’ve got a long list of suggestions
to sink my teeth in to
Half the time full of dimension
still I love the dark side too.
Some people live by first impression
I tried but couldn’t resist
Tangled knots in life’s suspension
marionette’s even sometimes quit
Bottled up untapped aggression
like a dog in heat I bit
Every hand who fed I bargained
sold my soul for half a cent.
Sometimes I just don’t feel ok
when color seems to fade to gray
But even I knew better days
were drawn like window shades.
Put me on like a flannel
in the middle of May
Wear me out completely
with the words that you say
Today the sun is shining
brighter than yesterday
So strum these heart string chords
cause you know just what to play.
Blow me out like a candle
I’ll be your flickering flame
Tuck me in like a child
too old for past mistakes
Let me sing to you a while
and the words that I’d say
Light the sky like a storm
and your rain’s saving grace.
Sometimes I just don’t feel ok
and you tell me that that’s ok.
I believe, I believe, I believe in you
I believe in you everyday,
cause I believe you believe in me.
shelved next to Shakespeare
How can one be
an open and closed book
all at the same time
he wondered,
licking his thumb
fingering pages
watching his life unfold
like a story shelved
next to Shakespeare.
a loneliness grave.
I spared him a quarter
alone where he stood
next to the Madonna
as if she’d do him good.
He gave me a blessing
gentle and aware
the wind it was violent
messing both our hair.
While Girl Scouts are selling
cookies for the troop
a week ago maybe
someone died on that stoop.
But don’t tell their mothers
as if they would care
no you don’t get the badge unless
you’ve sold your soul there.
My eyes they grow weary
still I can’t look away
at the hummingbird dancing
a loneliness grave,
still I’ve got this feeling
that there’s no escape
am I ok to drive? I guess or else just look away.
Am I ok to drive? I guess, if not well either way.
At the cafe I buy coffee
either iced or cold brew
the barista he tells me
nothing’s ever new.
But still I ask questions
like how do you do
and she recalls my name
it’s the least she could do.
I don’t mean to sound faithless
I’ve just seen enough kicks
see the old man he died, well
some things never make sense.
It’s slight of the hand, it’s
a scam with three cups
you follow the ball then
it’s gone where it was.
My eyes they burn red with
the heat of the day
it’s winter in Burbank
what more can I say,
still I’ve got this feeling
that there’s no escape
am I ok to drive? I guess or else just look away.
Am I ok to drive? I guess, if not well either way.
Now I take to the bar, where
Happy Hour’s till 6
Scott the tender he knows me
pours my whiskey then gin.
What’s the good word? Pal, tell me
do you think that you could
spare me knowledge like change would
do me some type of good.
I don’t stay past the hour
happiness never lasts
after shame there comes flowers
then of course there’s the past.
You’re a good guy he tells me
see the pain never lasts
I assure you it does, Scott
he just nods then he laughs.
See there’s beauty in living
it’s just hidden by stars
who illuminate sidewalks
like two subtle hearts,
still I’ve got this feeling
that there’s no escape
it’s an obvious cycle, one I’ll never break.(?)
Am I ok to drive? I guess or else just look away.
Am I ok to drive? I guess, if not well either way.
Words Of An Average White Male 