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Jul 2017 · 567
Robot Army
M Norris Jul 2017
Labour all day to make another man's dime.

I find myself on the wrong side o' this paradigm.

Turn on the television, distract me from my career.

There's a newsman speaking, I'm sorry I didn't hear.

There's a politician speaking, I'm sorry, it's not very clear.

There's an army of robots marching, excuse me while I blankly stare.

let me lose my mind to the screen.

jingle your keys before me.

I am bereft  of independent thought,

what our ancestors predicted this was not.

For those on top, this is what they want,

an army of robots bereft of thought.
Because the drudgery of life can be a festival of mediocraty
Jun 2017 · 574
Smiling Face
M Norris Jun 2017
I didn’t know
When you would show
Your smiling face to me.

Time went on
Now you're gone,
I should’ve shone my smile on thee.

You’ll never know
How far we’d go
And now we’ll never see.

Why did I wait
Loneliness is poor bait
So much relies on timing.
So much of love is timing. Don't wait, or you'll miss your chance.
Jun 2017 · 854
A Mile In Their Shoes
M Norris Jun 2017
They say "walk a mile in their shoes"
so you can understand their blues.
But I have traveled all around,
hundreds of shoes upon the ground.

The fisherman in the shack by the sea
who, to a hurricane, lost his family.

The old soldier lying drunk in the gutter,
who saw three wars that still make him shudder.

I've worn hundreds of shoes, two for each mile.
and for every frown, I found a smile.

The young, bright-eyed child in the park,
whose puppy just caught a frisbee with a bark.

The young couple on the couch
tangled together,
knowing through anything they will be forever.

They say "walk a mile in their shoes,"
so you can understand their blues.
But if you "love a mile in their heart"
and you truly learn who they are.
People are like icebergs, there may be more to them than you guess.
Jun 2017 · 687
Sunglasses (Haiku)
M Norris Jun 2017
Black out Sunglasses
The eyes are windows to the soul
What are you hiding.
Jun 2017 · 931
Ode to Traffic
M Norris Jun 2017
Here I sit, king of my wheeled domain, my neighbors’ kings of theirs. On a river of internal combustion, pavement and tendrils of black tar reaching. Creep forward at a pace matched by snails, dammed by glowing red lights. Free to think thoughts entirely my own. A peaceful space in a hectic world. A horn rips through the peace, someone too caught up in there busy schedule, there's nothing I can do, I’m as stuck as you. Breathe, relax, let the current flow. We will all get where we need go.
Slow down, theres alot of beauty in the world if you slow down and breathe.
Jun 2017 · 609
The Eagle Can't Soar
M Norris Jun 2017
The eagle can't soar.

Left wing and right wing
Working together in harmony,
And the eagle can be seen
Soaring beautifully, gloriously.

When the left and the right
Have between them a wall,
And continuously fight
Then the eagle will fall.

Alas, the wings are both broken
And the eagle is grounded.
Big dreams that will never be spoken
Amidst the din that has sounded.
Political commentary, Yay!
M Norris Jun 2017
The darkness, I find it soothing.
The night air, I find it cooling.
Wither away sunlight,
For dark tendrils are creeping.
Wither away, day’s spite,
For cool air is seeping.
Fear not the dark spirits teaming.
Wither away demons,
We are invincible when dreaming.
For we are a legion.
Wither away sunlight.
This was just something quick, whipped it up last night during a writers block on another poem.
Jun 2017 · 376
Six Foot Four (a haiku)
M Norris Jun 2017
Concussion abound
Its harder to breathe up here
**** my altitude.
Jun 2017 · 803
Alms for Christmas
M Norris Jun 2017
As the snowflakes start falling
I am left cold, and wanting.
Carols, like thick smoke, fill the air
Serenading people who didn't see me there.
Boney hands outstretched like a leafless tree
There are some things people don’t wish to see

Alms, alms, just for one hot meal,
Alms for Christmas, don’t make me steal.
Alms, for cocoa with peppermint and cream
Alms for kindness, for a childhood dream.

But my hands remained empty, catching only snow
The wool clad shoppers bustling past, rush rush, two days to go.
They pay me no heed for I am ragged, unsightly
They don’t want to ***** their conscience, for it shines so brightly.

The streets, eerily quiet on this cold winter morning.
Empty, not a soul in sight, not a caroler performing.
Frost laden windows reveal a world now beyond my grasp,
In tired eyes tears well as I'm visited by Christmas’ past.

A snowcapped landscape fills my thoughts
A small cabin by the woods is where I'm brought.
The sun is just starting to peek above the mountain,
Its rays springing forth like a golden fountain.

Wake up early! Before Mom and Dad,
We had to see what new toys we had.
“Look *****, look! Santa was here!
He left a print in the hearth and fed his reindeer!”
Mom made coffee as dad rubbed his eyes,
Once presents were done, we had one last surprise,
Once presents were done, we had one last dream.
hot cocoa, with peppermint and cream!

And then it was gone, like the crack of a whip,
It was gone before I got even a single sip.
Back to the seeping cold, the piercing chill
As I sit alone on Christmas under a windowsill.
I was alone,
the chill, more piercing now
Reaching my bones.
In houses all around me families sharing love and cheer.
It hurt me so much more to be so near.

Alms, alms just for one warm embrace,
Alms to banish these tears from my face.
Alms, alms to stay strong and endure
Alms, alms, the end is near.
Yes, This is a Christmas poem in June, its also very dark. Do people ever see just how rough the world can be?
Jun 2017 · 555
To Measure a Man
M Norris Jun 2017
The grass waved around me as I lay on a knoll,
Bemused by wonder as it caressed my soul.

Free.

Free to run, free to jump, free to  skip, and soar.
Watching the clouds, I didn’t want anything more.

Did I feel a man then
Innocent and dreamy eyed me?
Then, I barely even cared.

Time flows on, ceaseless, changing as the tide.
Ever ever on, trees bud, shade, shed, and hide.

Free.

Free to run, free to hide, free to cry and be alone.
Yet there it was, His name etched in the stone.

Did I feel a man then?
Fearful and lonely me?
Then, I barely felt anything.

I had to act, basking in an immense wave of duty.
The corpse of my childhood was a thing of beauty.

Free.

Free to grow, free to mature, free to finally measure up.
As I turned away I thought I felt as my heart close up.

Did I feel a man then?
Treasonous and cold me?
Then, I barely felt human.

Here I sit, with gray streaks coloring silver hair.
Wistful, gazing back, back when I didn’t care.

Free.

Free to sleep, free to rest, free to go back and never return.
Before I go give the hourglass one last turn.

How is a man measured?
Power? Wisdom? Actions?
Or is it the things he treasured?
Growing up is never easy, what we do, how we do it, these elements can decide who you become.
Jun 2017 · 395
Free Like the Sparrow
M Norris Jun 2017
How I long to be free like the Sparrow.
Alas, these holes are far too narrow,
And I cannot compress my marrow.
This fate is a heavy burden to bare,
Oh!
How I long to be free like the Sparrow.
The inspiriration for this came from, funnily enough, my 1y/o son discovering the baby gate.
Jun 2017 · 369
Invitation Only
M Norris Jun 2017
I hear your heavy breath as you lie next to me. You struggled not for the first time to get on the bed, which you know is by invitation only. In out, in out. The pattern is soothing yet it troubles me that your golden muzzle is turning silver. Snoring now, I smile as you fall deeper and deeper into puppy dreamland. Where do you go on these journeys? Back to playful puppyhood? Chasing the wind, nipping at wafting dandelion seeds? Am I with you in that moment? Throwing a stick for you, or rolling alongside you in the waving grass? You are a true and loyal friend. Our time is now, in the moment, and for every moment after. Even if I have to lift you onto the bed, which you know is by invitation only.

Come on up old pup.
This prose is dedicated to my aging dog, Oblio. It is very close to my heart.

— The End —