Tag: Poem 2016

  • Our Mind, Our Matter, a Poem

    Out there in the cosmos we think the answer lies. But the answer is inside of us, while we look onward to the sky. Self-examination is tough; it calls for a resilient soul. To strip away the myth of self and boldly catalog our show. No easy task that. It is gut wrenching work, from which we would prefer to shirk. Yet, it is the only way for us to grow. Traveling within the recesses of mind. The ins and outs, the twists and turns can leave us lost. Lost within ourselves as we dwell and delve into the abyss of our own foibles. The mind as haunted house. The mind as mystery. The mind as ultimate frontier. We need be astronauts of the cosmic terrain of our brains. We must sort and separate, organize and assess. And, we must do this at our own behest. Growth is rough stuff. Yet the task is easier when we have a passion to do better. To go through thick and foul weather. To discover our own goodness, the goodness we possess within.

  • Ode to Lanny Poffo

    Leaping Lanny you’re quite a guy You wrestle and write poetry My oh my It’s not the typical combination we see But you decided to let your mind be free You entertained us, as did your dear departed brother The Macho Man, there was no other Yet you’re still here to share your insight That as humans we needn’t just wrestle or fight And so thank you for joining with us my friend I know you’ll be a class act to the end

  • Birthday Cake, a Poem

    Life isn’t all Birthday Cake Not even close Too many of us learn this too late But better late than never, I suppose Champagne might be great And sure, you could get drunk Maybe that is an escape But can you be the best you, drunk? Fast food is tasty Does it promote good health? Answer that question yourself Yet we often don’t bother to focus on these things

  • Duly Noted

    Duly noted, no one voted And the Mantis sat upon the bar Gazing at the gal who wanted to be a star “Whisky and Water,” he ordered And that is the disordered life Glugging and chugging, instead of planting a flag Wishing instead of working, Just drinking and shirking In a slur the Mantis demanded, “Another double!” Here comes trouble! And a bubbly blonde sidled up to him “Come here often?” she asked with a grin “Hmmm,” responded the Mantis, wiping his chin And then he let out a sober shout “It’s hollow if that’s all there is.” “We can do better through will, if the will is His!”

  • The Alleviation of Future Regrets

    Life used to be a blast Now you’re a fly under glass Buzzing to get out You shout! Life used to be so fine Oh the wine! Now you whine As you sit in a funk Life used to be one giant party Hardly! But your mind plays tricks on you And you don’t give a tough past its due

  • Of Personal Deliverance, a Poem

    Sometime before the dawn of infinity In the Soul’s birthplace vicinity While searching for those with whom I shared an affinity I wondered It all took place in my mind’s eye I had not yet returned to the sky Or the beyond, great or not This was but a fleeting view of the “What?”

  • Slow Dance of Change, a Poem

    Stranded on a desert island of my mind. No palms, no blue waters, the sky not divine. The void, inescapable and deep. Standing but asleep on my feet. Down, way down, yet still not out. The need for help present but unable to shout. Caught in the depths. Covered by an ink black blanket. Strangling in emotion and thought. In a word, distraught. Rejected, dejected and scorned. Tired, drained and world worn. Wanting to make a change, but caught in not slow but no motion. The only savior, to hope there’s still devotion. Crying silent and tearless. Shaking and broken, gone is fearless. Afraid of being afraid. Feeling like a participant in a masquerade. And, yet, still clinging to hope. Salvation and redemption the desire. In the gut still burns a raging fire. The question, how to connect desire to action? What will it take? What kind of reaction?

  • Authenticity Do, a Poem

    Awake? Baked cake a mistake? Partake too late? Delay at your peril. Life will never be sterile. There is no perfect time to act. And if your life is an act, don’t you miss authenticity? If you just front, who are you, I mean, through and through? Sort of searching for an answer while drowning it out with social life? Is that your unguent for personal strife? Hey, it’s your life. You don’t need to wait around for appropriate nomenclature. You are not a science project, just a person, a tiny grain of sand in an endless universe. No amount of verse will change that. Yet though you might be small, your soul is infinitely tall. And you can scale it to great heights if you are willing to resolve your internal fights. We can fly high if we get real. Really high if we have the steel. We can soar. We can travel. We can judge ourselves gently with our own internal gavel. Then, we can get on with it. What we need to do. What we need to see through. Our raison d'être is no mistake. We are not toast, French or otherwise, as long as we are willing to correct our errors with passion. This should be our latest fashion. Get ready to walk in Milan with élan.

  • Scrambled Brain/Keep the Faith, a Poem

    Scrambled brain, it hurts. No more prose; that’s for pros. Instead, here, words unwed, strewn together in a swirl of clattering sound. Often not particularly profound. Some kind of rhyming, rocking back and forth in a hidden section of the gray matter. As if it matters. I mean, does anyone really care? Hopefully. Pain is the name of the game – inescapable brain pain. Trapped in tiring, perspiring, repetitive notions, both tied and untethered from reality. Fealty to a broken enigma of thought. In a word, distraught. A need to be retaught or untaught or deconstructed and reconstructed. Whatever. Call it inclement mental weather.

  • Our Hope, Our Dawn; a Poem

    Let’s dance in the light. Be bright. Take flight from sadness and pain. Refrain from the soul drain of inactive sorrow. Abstain from the desire to complain. Rather, be creative. Imagine. Explore the universe of the mind. And see what we might find. There are treasure troves there to help humanity - right in our brains. Insane? No fact! We can create and do and see things through. Yet, it begins with belief in self. Not pure luck, reliance on magic or an elf. We have been created so that we might create. And create we shall and create we must. This is our task before we return to dust. It will prevent earthly dimming and prolonged dusk. The world has been sent individuals to help and individuals to heal. When will they be revealed? That revelation takes a simple tool. Grab a mirror, now you’ve been to school. Awaken to your own unique genius. We all have our contributions to make.