In a hologram
I am the man you would like me to be
but you see
it is me,
why do you want to know
who that I am?
but the man that's an image
a man you would pillage
and keep for your own.
Pictures that grow up and slow up,then show up just who that you are
an image that's far too inconstant
a side by the sea
aside from you and me and the oceans that we see
there is only a halogen lamp which tramps out these scenes and in the inbetweens of our dreams
I will be forever
the screens on the doors of the more that you want, and the more that we need,
the more we will seed the cameras with film.
and developed could it be
that we see so much more?
There will be no service and no luncheon
when you “now” becomes a “Then”
Just a dignified cremation
awaits at your Journey’s end.
There will be no spoken eulogy
By a priest who knew you not.
No crying yapping relatives-
For none had you begot.
There are those of us
who’ll shed a tear,
to think the old Girl’s passed.
but there’ s no need to wear a suit
Or get the Limos gassed.
You’ll have passed on in your sleep
Having felt the needles pinch.
A far more humane fate I think
than dying by the inch.
Brownie was a good dog
And often gave me her paw.
She always got excited
when she saw me at the door.
A better pet you couldn’t get,
Nor meet a gentler soul.
I’ll shed a quiet private tear
when I put away her bowl.
She's got something in her pocket
It belongs across her face
She keeps it very close at hand
But I fear it's been misplaced.
Lately, I can't find it
She's lost it since, it seems
The smile of her Brownie days
When she was young it gleamed.
Little girl with butterfly pins
Her pink dresses and toes
Is now the older, different girl
With deep dark nails and clothes.
Little girl with changing mind
Well, that may be true today
But the little part is long and gone
Now she's got more to say.
She thinks about the world right now
How it's all so sick and old
She understand how people work
Without having to be told.
She tells you what she thinks right then
And stresses all too much
She misses how the old days were
Even though she's young and such.
She's lonely in a different way
Where the people are still there
She's sitting around her favorite ones
This feeling is not rare.
She had something in her pocket
I hope she finds it soon
I want to see her smile now
I want her to feel new.
Im sorry you had to walk all the way up
now and then, i wonder:
whats the world gonna be like when
your heart stops pumping with compassion
and reality has lost sight of you
i don't really know but
i think that
I'll never synchronize
to anything that brings me to my last day
when will i have i to lose?
cold creamer in
the steam, slowly deteriates &
before my eyes.
prior to its disappearance
i got a quick and
at the scrauol as it is lifted
into the air
sublime was the way then
in the murky November vapor
I love what i have
and all i have is giving me
hindsight? zero to 100 percent . epiphany.
some call it sin of gluttony
im loving how much i am feeling it
nasty cold december is tempting me
and I'm needing a bit more rest
than the amount you have given me
but i didn't even think about leaving
* i am loving my stay*
not the intellectual property of i but instead cherubs drifting in the past