"beckers" poems
From dawn until dusk
To the sweat, dripping musk;
From attacks of musth
To that One Golden month.
Rising solid in the dawn--
As the bronzed Ego of Purpose--
Mustering self-esteem's brawn
Cools my trademark Nervose Verbose
But do appointments, notes,
Lectures, hecklers, and Beckers,
Distract the mind that dotes?
The Heart Desperate for Nectar?
Hah! such defensive thoughts....
Fallacies of Neuroses.
Just polishing my doubts,
Vainly "pleasing" my unease.
Monday's mundanity
Fails my lie of character--
Left with Insanity
Railing lines under pressure
And then, faces--balance blurs
Into downed neurons
Where not nobody cares to
"Think about the children!"
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC