This is somewhat of a surreal writing and so is the title
well here goes...
Foolin' around with chaos
Kickin' at the cosmos
Not quite known' where
my left foot and right foot
really belong
Wondren' if the stains
in my undershorts
are the results
of nicotine
Imaginin' the Philly goliath
clothing statue around 15th and Market
constructed to clamp
onto Willys Nose
Wittnessin' the "Parkin' Authority"
rhythmically writin' on pads
their violation ticket songs
to the quarter meters of cash flow
Drizzly watchin'
The multitude of "Ben Hurs"
precariously skim
and fly around the corner
at 16th and Market headin' north And
seekin' self-infliction
by seriously
tellin' a waitress
that she really serves the best food in town. And
salutin' every Admiral dressed doorman
that I pass. Then later,
overhearin' a good "Samaritan"
tell a street ******
that four roses
can also be sniffed as well
Thoughts of Christ
nailed to the " Charles Schwab" edifice
with a thorny looking crown
made from antiquated ticker tape
His side pierced by
piggy bank breakers,
and the outpouring of green inscriptions
that state, " In God we trust."
All these things
race through the squeaking
reels of my mind already
corroded by seen corruption as a
passing Krishna group's chant permeates
the thick city air
And an unnoticed dying dove raises
its quivering right wing
as if in a last salute to peace
And all too well I know,
how the city devours its youth
like Goya's " Saturn Devouring his Son"
All too soon, in the sunlight
of my benevolent youthfulness within,
a chilled blanket of knowing about ignorance
overwhelms me
Tormented by indefinable tormentor,
The love-lust for life diminishes
and captured by surrounding greed
and torn asunder
Driven away, sitting in Rittenhouse Square,
touched by two lovers
as squirrels
scamper playfully
over dead dried
Autumn leaves...
...that crackle...
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
This is somewhat of a surreal writing and so is the title
well here goes...
Foolin' around with chaos
Kickin' at the cosmos
Not quite known' where
my left foot and right foot
really belong
Wondren' if the stains
in my undershorts
are the results
of nicotine
Imaginin' the Philly goliath
clothing statue around 15th and Market
constructed to clamp
onto Willys Nose
Wittnessin' the "Parkin' Authority"
rhythmically writin' on pads
their violation ticket songs
to the quarter meters of cash flow
Drizzly watchin'
The multitude of "Ben Hurs"
precariously skim
and fly around the corner
at 16th and Market headin' north And
seekin' self-infliction
by seriously
tellin' a waitress
that she really serves the best food in town. And
salutin' every Admiral dressed doorman
that I pass. Then later,
overhearin' a good "Samaritan"
tell a street ******
that four roses
can also be sniffed as well
Thoughts of Christ
nailed to the " Charles Schwab" edifice
with a thorny looking crown
made from antiquated ticker tape
His side pierced by
piggy bank breakers,
and the outpouring of green inscriptions
that state, " In God we trust."
All these things
race through the squeaking
reels of my mind already
corroded by seen corruption as a
passing Krishna group's chant permeates
the thick city air
And an unnoticed dying dove raises
its quivering right wing
as if in a last salute to peace
And all too well I know,
how the city devours its youth
like Goya's " Saturn Devouring his Son"
All too soon, in the sunlight
of my benevolent youthfulness within,
a chilled blanket of knowing about ignorance
overwhelms me
Tormented by indefinable tormentor,
The love-lust for life diminishes
and captured by surrounding greed
and torn asunder
Driven away, sitting in Rittenhouse Square,
touched by two lovers
as squirrels
scamper playfully
over dead dried
Autumn leaves...
...that crackle...
Looks like the day started out being silly into a day of being serious. Funny how, at times, life changes, even in a half surreal world
