Me, You, Billiard Ball Too; a Poem

A billiard ball stood up real tall, grew teeth that a mitochondria’s face it could maul. It sang a song of loss and hazard, rolling through the graveyard of time, a place – weather warn and misty – the opposite of sublime. As it strolls its circle around life’s inner cycle it wonders why it cannot wonder at all. But alas, it is only a billiard ball.

Our heads rock-like and filled with brains, we are supposed to use them, but it’s a strain. To think, rethink and analyze facts, about us and those and these and that. We criticize and complain and mock others like us; we fail at self-analysis and like chickens cluck. We are heroes of our own interior universe, yet in objectivity and self-knowledge we work in reverse. The result? We are monumentally, intellectually perverse.

Lathered so in error, we humans so skewed. A little food, a little love and our thoughts are quickly subdued. The larger issues, what are they then? I eat chicken, not mother hen. And all philosophy fails to bring me around, to plant my feet back on the ground. Because I am the big deal, a billiard ball, I stand up straight and tell them all.

Rolling on in the cosmos at home, shining bright my glittering dome. Careening and caroming without a care, my thoughts scattered like unfolded leisurewear. These polyester privileged thoughts, caked in synthetic store bought warts, fail to bring me any thrill. Heat this place up, I am getting a chill. And remember, I cannot think when I am otherwise disposed. What a lovely shade of red, on those pedicured toes.

Call my name once and I will tell you my name. Are you confused that they are not one in the same? Wait no longer for the moment of truth, the answer lies in our hearts and our bicycles and in buckets of mud. But certainly not in thoughts that go thud! The insight we need is the insight we’ve gained, dare I say using it makes us feel strained?

And so friends, and fellow billiard balls, stand up straight and act real tall. Roll on through the winding road of strife and correct the word and call it life. Surmount the challenge and react with a grin. Open your eyes and stroke your chin. Accept that you can do the do you must, and remember that in the billiard ball maker you should always trust.

Image courtesy of [ArtJSan] /

*Authors note: You might see this column pop up online in a newspaper, under the name Both Sides. I am publishing this column here first at For a bunch of years, I have been writing newspaper columns. Since my columns have received a good response on CYInterview, I thought I would share it with you. Hope you enjoy.

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