It never struck me as odd
how all the happy clowns
were so less fortunate
than the sad ones. They too
of course were sad at times
but wore the biggest smiles—
smiles the sad clowns smudged—
for good reason? Probably not.
Home » Posts tagged 'truth' (Page 7)
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No luck of clovers here
If a man’s to charge me now
I don’t think that I could move
Blinded by the sun
The insects stand aloof
Counting blades of grass
No luck of clovers here
Each day’s a hangman’s pity
Each night’s a cross to bear
I’m Your Huckleberry
If you told me then
We’d now be coughing blood
You know Doc, I wouldn’t change a thing.
His Revelation, Her Over-Time
With a white satin napkin
He wiped away his pride
That’s it my Lord, my Savior
What more have I to hide?
The pills induced his coma
His blood ran thin with wine
His revelation managed
By the nurse’s over-time
Stories and Mythos
It’s not exactly the man
that makes for an interesting talk.
But the stories of the man.
And the mythos of the man,
which more often times than not,
are much wiser than the man—
Leaving out his failure
to remind him what he lost.
The Tides of Mankind
There is a certain understanding
In the misunderstanding of mankind.
And it’s this misunderstanding
that propels us forward, like a ship
of titanic proportions does not idle
but cuts through waves, and flows
with The Tides of Mankind.
Untitled for Ariel & Jack
Oh, how the light
Always manages
To see through
The dark.
Flirting with Death
It’s much easier to lie
in the afternoon light,
steady’s the humming
bird that takes flight.
Oh whispering wind
forgive me tonight,
how flirting with death
has been a delight.
The Road Between
Sometimes all there is to do is drive
and drive, and drive, and drive until
you forget to where you’re going,
you forget from where you came,
and you remember there’s no difference
except the road which lies between.
And when you don’t got the wheels
or means or place to stay
you walk, and walk, and walk until
it all makes sense enough to go away.
And you remember not to worry so much
as in all walks of eternity
you’re a part of this one, and the heartache
pain and blame is all just slapstick.
It’s a grand ole comedy of magic and men
who’d drown before they’d ever dive in.
So the next time I, see-you-me,
I hope we’re swimming in the Milky Way!
Travelers through time and time forgot,
our elephant minds remember.
Our Current Social Dilemma
We went from public displays of affection
Straight to public displays of everything
Now leaving nothing to the imagination
Embracing it all, then apologizing for it after.
It’s like some convoluted social stream of consciousness
That forms a figure eight of disingenuous pandering
One which tastes to a choir of social unrest
Like change, its value null, when in reality it’s all just
As sad and dull as high school sex.
Words Of An Average White Male 