"oversight" poems
I look out from this little world
with all it's dancers dancing
Mighty trees tickle the sky
The birds in them romancing
If we but stop and listen
we'll hear the music playing
Stop a while and close your eyes
exhale the troubles weighing
Down around your shoulders
Thoughts that cloud your heart
We're only here but for a while
Before we drift apart
Like clouds across the silver moon
we're here and gone far too soon
Then pass into the inky night
Still around, yet out of sight
Some of our clouds stretch for miles
Others stacked in fragile piles
Some full and dark and hanging low
Filled with tears they can't let go
Some so wispy and so light
Their presence a mere oversight
Some whose wrath begets a name
Who form a mighty hurricane
Some who rumble in the night
Hurling lightening left and right
Some dark and brooding, filled with snow
Dumping ice on all below
Some that twist right to the ground
Violently they spin around
Some collide, some drift away
Some prefer night, some prefer day
So let us stop and gaze up high
To find ourselves within the sky
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Ah, the season of gifting.
Antagonist of year-long thrifting.
Tradition sadistic,
Materialistic,
Four quarters in pockets worth sifting.
This year I hereby proclaim
I shan’t be consumed by the game.
Cycle of curse
Purpose perverse
The namesake, an oversight became.
Christ’s birth did in fact begin,
Holiday distracted by sin.
Misguided it be
To forget idly
The sacrifice He made for all men.
We naively regard generosity
As holiday’s behavioral piosity.
But if dollars and cents
Are the tools of offense
Over shadow favor luminosity.
Water in Africa is *****
American child in poverty.
Politics aside,
Convenient homicide,
To enable the ills of society.
In the global economy we flaunt
Wealth by comparison, bitter taunt.
First world problems abound
Pass the turkey around
Central heating and air, what a jaunt!
What if this season we decide
To extend two palms open wide?
Sacrificing ourselves
Rather than stocking our shelves
Dying whispers echo true: “we tried.”
Don’t spend your money on me this year.
Not iPhones, not tickets, not Blu-ray or beer.
Instead know you can
Distribute more than
A snort, a lie, and a tear.
(optional conclusion to assist interpretation of last line)
Snort of derision,
Lies of provision,
Tears, even true,
Hardly subdue
Anguish deprived of tradition’s revision.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
I truly believe that one of the reasons that the US is despised and condemned world wide is because of such views on such characteristics as: honesty, integrity, independence(this includes not thinking in a collective mindset which we do as a culture, everything is apple or windows, pepsi or cola, republican or democrat, people need to think for themselves stop claiming and just be), persistence, determination, morale, empathy, tradition/heritage, learning, chivalry, discernment, and humility.
Instead of utilizing and perfecting these people of this nation and similar one's have become: prideful, dependent, drive-less, imprudent/unwise, insulting, ignorant(willfully so), objective, biased, crude, mediocre, and surface oriented.
In turn we have neglected the responsibilities we have of ourselves. This has resulted in physical, mental, and spiritual capacity regression on a mass scale. Most people have no idea what they are consuming in their daily dietary intake(I mean really know what all the ingredients are and what they do whether positive or negative). Most citizens have also become, literally and according to the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization, mentally incapable and completely inane as compared to even 15yrs ago. We have forgotten how to have a community to the point that neighbors don't know each other anymore. We have exchanged the truly important things in life like knowledge and wisdom for wealth and appearance. We have completely forgotten how to survive without the aid of water treatment, electricity, and useless objects. One of the worst of all things we have stopped doing, is being involved with our government; instead, we have put our trust in them without oversight, and this is why we have been losing our liberties. I believe, just like Benjamin Franklin stated, that any individual who sacrifices even one liberty for safety/security... deserves to have all of their liberties eradicated.
In conclusion, it is time to return our societies to ourselves. We need to relearn the truly important things in life and start living with ourselves, each other, and nature as we must to thrive. It is on us as a people to repair what generations before us, and our generations are doing; lest, I am afraid, our children and grandchildren will inherit the same ideals and expand upon them until we regress to the point that insolence, ignorance, and imprudence is the common norm... we have already begun to accept these. Open your eyes to the truth, at first it will be painful and difficult, but than you will be set free. WE THE PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR FUTURES AND CHILDREN'S FUTURES.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
As I watch you sleep, you wonder through vivid dreams,
This must be the reason for your kicking and muted screams.
As you slept, I held you so tightly, even though your naked body excites,
Which is a blessing on cold winter nights.
But as morning creeps in and the light starts to begin,
I create with a tiny lick, the most arousing sensation.
And as her vestigial legs slide so easily, I being the lovers embrace,
Bathing in her ocean of taste, great emotion fills her face.
"Oh, I am sorry sweetie, did I wake".... "oh no my dear, I did not want an oversight,
For a wish or a dream in the night, a touch so softly, there is no fight.
I figured I would stir you in the seeking of a snack,
But don't you worry a little bit, just relax and lay right back
For there is no greater act, then to lick our passionate parts so sweetly,
In between your thighs, while I drive my tongue so deeply.
But what I do with my tongue at midnight, when there is no one around to hear the yells,
I would go into more detail, but a gentlemen never tells!
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
"come on, Forget-Me-Not!" flirted emerald Snapdragon,
"tell me, what’s it like to have control over me, for once?"
like fire, the cerulean bloom did crackle and hiss
and walked away in a heated, dreadful silence.
"why do you call me that?" asked uncertain Snapdragon,
"tell me, why don’t you speak with me like you used to?"
like salt, the windowed flame did flicker thrice -
and was swept away by the threatening, stormy sea breeze.
"please, my sun-kissed Fox," begged hesitant Snapdragon,
"shower me in loving words like you did before."
like rain in drought, the elusive creature did rarely show his face,
if so, only for laughter’s sake, to break the horrid silence.
"tell me, darling Forget-Me-Not," pleaded melancholy Snapdragon,
"why don’t you love me anymore?" oh how she sobbed
as, like childhood, her Snapdragon self become part of his past -
he shrugged his pale, fragile shoulders, swaying in the salty breeze.
"dear seaside Sunset," wrote tragic Snapdragon, "I am truly sorry,
I miss our days in love. your presence filled a hole in me, now empty."
but far too long in blinded oversight, Forget-Me-Not had stood,
and much too late did adoring Snapdragon realise her mistake.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
Listen to my words
the kids they going crazy
Getting locked up
All they can clutch,
Miranda rights
at the same time
alright
Miranda writes
Our thoughts put to paper
Play it out on the stage
Never know the difference
Its a turn of the page
Some use their bullets
some wield a knife
Others preach the dollar
Is How they take our lives
Grab you by the collar
And break you down with lies
Don't matter what your searching
Only what you find
This is our misfortune
Blinded by distortion
Someday we might wake up
As we struggle to align
You cannot be free
all that blood in your eyes
Round and round in circles
A place I call my home
Just a lonely misfit
With the strength of a stone
Wonder round these valleys
While you sit upon your throne
Sometimes it's hard to admit
The scale of this dismay
Indeed we are alone
Some use their writing
The bullet is a pen
I killed oppression
Does that mean
That I'm insane
I killed oppression
What's left to be?
waiting in vain
I killed oppression
a fury made of fire
Brought down all the people
We were never equal
I killed oppression
Standing on the sun
The flames
You can keep em
They killed oppression
Shot it right between the eyes
Third, you may see
Lead you to your destiny
They killed oppression
Look at the world
Crumble let it be
No one really cares
About the people
No one really cares
About the people
They killed oppression
The wars about a dollar
Corporate oversight
Disguise pain with laughter
Gotta feed the horde
Seduction is their nature
They killed oppression
Read between the lines
They. Have drawn for you, as
We **** oppression
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 11:44 AM UTC
In times gone by, now recondite,
Neanderthal, ***** upright,
spoke softly, tones so lily-white,
and tried to put the world aright.
He taught us how the flame ignites
that wearing furs will warm the nights,
just why the rolling wheel excites,
and how the beveled flint stone bites.
Before the days of dynamite
he fought his foes with spit and spite,
and swung big sticks with all his might,
and rendered death with stones in flight.
Engaged in never-ending fight
(arenas were a global sight)
he forced his forces to unite
to sate his oily appetite.
To quell rude thoughts that may incite
he ruled the realm with fly-by-nights
and culled the winds of words in flight,
and darkened minds to anthracite.
With fairy tales of evil sprites
and how the fist of freedom smites,
he washed the world with flames alight
to vanquish hoards of parasites.
Each dawn the damage brought delight,
the foe was bent, a bit contrite…
yet battled on with no respite
until the dusk and evening light.
Encamped beside the firelight
Neanderthal, that shiny Knight,
awaited morn while sitting tight
assured the end would be alright.
Yes, conquest seemed his sacred right…
Forevermore?… well, no, not quite…
Neanderthal's extinct tonight
and lies beside the Trilobite…
MORAL
The Oreo is round, not bright:
while rolling near the candlelight
at first the searing seemed so slight,
the molten cream an oversight…
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
young lovers enthralled
in a passion that can
melt the deepest
Alpine snow cap
announce an intention
to join as one
till death do you part
the elders smile
at the audacity of
your grandiloquent
proclamation
youthful optimism
expressing pollyannish
sentiments born
of wistful hope
yet to learn the rules
of the vows of matrimony
and the endless sweet labor
required to keep it alive and well
thus i pass on this sage advice
when the baby cries at night
when the car won't start
when the rent bill is due
and you find yourself
a bit short
i wish you love...
when the cupboard is bare
and the desire to satiate
swelling hunger pangs
is overwhelming
i wish you love…
when you find yourself travelling
through roads that are
unfamiliar and foreboding
when you are hopelessly lost
in the darkest reaches
of the Black Forest
i wish you love…
as you grow as individuals
straining your relationship
when in laws become outlaws
and the pulls and pushes
of family and friends becomes
unfamiliar and misunderstood
i wish you love…
when resentments and insecurities
conspire to undermine trust
when greener pastures
pose a mirage of better things
i wish you love…
when oversight and neglect
leave you empty
when the luster of the
edelweiss bloom fades
when exasperation melts
the Alps greatest glacier
flooding everything you have
when the untended furnace
doesn't fire and the last
log is consumed
be patient
be diligent
be expectant
be kind
hold on to it
believe in it
practice it
trust it
may it bind you
in a perfect circle
and all your fondest
hopes and wishes
will be yours
i wish you love…
Stevie Wonder
Signed Sealed Delivered
Salutation for
Engagement Party
Maxine Lintel and
Glendon McCallum
Munich
11/29/13
jbm
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 12:09 PM UTC
In a shrill corner
with overcast clouds dully wasting the day
for contemplation washes in brackish waves
flood mouth and eyes
I tell you but
no better words hover lazily
like dust caught in light
In the shrill corner
held with fierce intensity,
the best way small palms can clench.
you were some treasure I'd finally found
which might slip
from my pockets, of threadbare fabric
burying between the thistle and trash
by the sidewalks' path
by my own oversight
you make a promise
I can’t swim to the bottom
for fear of what truth might look like.
Consumed without discretion.
without abatement.
smoke and ashes will settle
into bloodstream and bone
leaving fossil traces
If one day you want to slip between the fibers
to be among something new
I will understand
let you pass
with fists clenched.
around their flesh
I will make a promise.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
loathe — july 17, 2013
reëstablish the current which made being whole
no, not just in another life since fragmented whole is nothing tethered to the waist. that’s what belts are for. if you say so
monitor it like
you would anywhere
the trajectory is clear : light the torch of multi-orbed sensation
where we wait on the cusp
of the whole
perhaps in another life, we dare to suggest it. i don’t dare. if i did, i would consider myself a pigment of this pallet
i don’t breathe limited expectation
scientific claims
they’re just as good as dead to me. perhaps the whole can be related and consume our progress. there is too much to see. too little methods
methodic function isn’t perfunctory yet. a push is required. jumpstarting will only cause sparks.
i know something better
so sit down and move to the right. the light’s blocking my view and i cannot surmise unless i’m granted a complete oversight. nothing backseat, because we all know
that is reductive
paint splatters on my face
i
am
frozen
the colors reimage our complexion and erase the mistakes until we are whole
[ uncertainty is the new guarantee ]
introspection is a form by which we do so. everything we see is incomplete. our eyes need to be adjusted
to the [ uncertain ]
adore — july 29 , 2013
black blue strata pillars spruces flutes
eclectic aftermath debris snaffle pop
chute-in whelked chrome lugubrious
lifeblood : trans yes mutate pro-ohms
in timehalts wyoming woodsmoke
screened scans : rancid gemini rotors
hulks histories back - lying supine arts
( please remind me to act regimentally )
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
There is a class
Across the sea
That's small in size
With students, three
The students' names
And average grades
Are A, B, C
The roll-book states
Of the trio
A's the one
Who aces tests
And frowns on fun
The apple of
His teacher's eye
A has nary
Cause to cry
Kid C exults
In being bad
He signs his name
"Rebellious Lad"
His afternoons
He's proud to mention
He spends with teacher
In detention
A classic class
Don't you agree?
What's that you say?
Oh, pardon me!
There's also B!
I quite forgot
An oversight-
Thanks a lot!
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
Welcome to your execution
You will not be exonerated
Your rights will not be debated
In this secret prison
This bay of pigs
But it’s not the pigs imprisoned
Corporate sponsored terrorism
Government created schism
Between the illusion of rights
And the truth
There will be no repeals
And when we are ready
Secret tribunals with no oversight
Will oversee your execution
Or worse your lifetime imprisonment
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
It's kind of a weird story,
How I got these scars.
The're very special,
You can only see them
If I tell you they are here.
But the scars you think you saw,
The scars you think you pointed out on my body,
Don't exist.
The scars i have,
Are seen when i tell you to see them.
So now they are invisible.
Because no one will ever know.
That i want to be the one to speak her name as mine.
These scars,
Are from not from my knife but from you because i told you to hurt me and it would be better for you, for me, and for everybody.
Maybe you want to take the risk.
And want to see the scars.
I'll show them.
But i warn you.
You will not only see scars,
Lies.
Hate.
Anger.
Deceit.
Delusion.
Deception.
Seduction.
Fallacy.
Errancy.
Oversight.
Aberrancy.
This can go on for a while.
I'll tell you this.
The one thing i keep in mind.
The one thing you should keep in mind.
_Don't know, Don't see, Don't show, Don't feel._
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 8:11 AM UTC
Stop putting me in check.
I watch dreams I've worked so hard towards just wash away,
As if it's supposed to be easy to leave behind.
Stop sending me obstacles.
Endless bills,
Final notices just weeks away.
Destiny must be an oversight.
I'm positive there must be more then this....
Stop sending me deceitful lovers.
They consume my time,
Whisper promises never for filled,
It's all empty in the end.
I hate that it leaves me hallow.
Stop leaving me awake with worry. Endless outcomes steal my sleep,
My brain always stuck in over thought, My nights consumed in worry.
Stop putting me down,
When I give all I have.
Dreams always at my fingertips,
But never close enough to touch.
Must not be meant for me.
Climb the ladder reality says,
Life holds no place for dreamers.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
The air feels heavy in the daylight.
Morning noise falls through the cracks.
Like unwelcome guests.
I do nothing.
But breathe in. Inhale. Corrode
Heretic lungs weighed down by sighs.
Combust. Purify. In fumes of nicotine
And smoke of papal white. Aware
Each breath burning away at life.
Eyes that see no oversight.
Curtained in ******* light,
Fade out of view
The room is shun away
The world lies flourish
I have made an enemy
Out of the Day.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
“If I knew it would be the last time
That I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly
and pray the Lord, your soul to keep.
If I knew it would be the last time
that I see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss
and call you back for one more.
If I knew it would be the last time
I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would video tape each action and word,
so I could play them back day after day.
If I knew it would be the last time,
I could spare an extra minute or two
to stop and say "I love you,"
instead of assuming you would KNOW I do
If I knew it would be the last time
I would be there to share your day,
well I'm sure you'll have so many more,
so I can let just this one slip away.
For surely there's always tomorrow
to make up for an oversight,
and we always get a second chance
to make everything right.
There will always be another day
to say our "I love you's,"
And certainly there's another chance
to say our "Anything I can do's?"
But just in case I might be wrong,
and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you
and I hope we never forget.
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone,
young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance
you get to hold your loved one tight
So if you're waiting for tomorrow,
why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes,
you'll surely regret the day,
That you didn't take that extra time
for a smile, a hug, or a kiss
and you were too busy to grant someone,
what turned out to be their one last wish.
So hold your loved ones close today,
and whisper in their ear,
Tell them how much you love them
and that you'll always hold them dear
Take time to say "I'm sorry," "Please forgive me,"
"Thank you," or "It's okay."
And if tomorrow never comes,
you'll have no regrets about today.
Just let them know how much you care about them.
You never know, you
may not see them tomorrow.
So let them know how much they mean to you.”
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 11:42 AM UTC
(Can be sung to the tune of "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town")
You'd better take heed; you'd better not bawl
When you read all the writing on the wall:
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
You can deny what you have done,
But you cannot fool everyone.
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
Mueller's digging deeper,
No matter what you do.
No matter what you think or say,
He's got the goods on you.
So! You'd better take heed; you'd better not bawl
When you read all the writing on the wall:
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
Putin can say he wasn't involved,
And you say, "Hey! Now I'm absolved."
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
Republican friends in Congress can try
To undermine the Mueller probe and lie.
You're still going to be IMPEACHED.
The people in this country are jumping up and down.
Finally there'll be oversight: the Dems have come to town.
So! You'd better take heed; you'd better not bawl
When you read all the writing on the wall:
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
You think that you are free and clear.
Keep your eyes open as storm clouds near.
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
You can say "No collusion" each day.
The truth of the matter won't go away.
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
Among your co-conspirators someone's spilled the beans;
Someone's told the truth about you,
And you know what that means.
So! You'd better take heed; don't weep and wail.
Worst case scenario: time in jail.
You are going to be IMPEACHED.
-by Bob B (12-10-18)
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
In disaster and war movies
the protagonist (Queen) and her immediate circle
are protected from anonymous death. They may die (one by
one or all at once)
but someone at least grieves.
Or the audience is full of glee.
But in Star Wars (for instance)
what about the many hundreds of nameless, faceless soldiers
in body armor and visored helmets, or planetary citizens,
who fall by the dozens or more, like the leaves this rich fall.
I think
no one thinks
how one of them may have had her first lover the night before
and one may be leaving behind two sons he read to last night
and loved with all his heart.
Neither belief in God nor being a god entertained
can explain or forgive this oversight.
Ah, how sweet
the film in which no actor dies or if they do
it's from their own disease or golden age.
People grieve for the soul that left
and celebrate the soul that flew.
I was in Providence for a conference,
a town I had thought insignificant, not a city to be considered
a city in flight. But that night they lit
one hundred bonfires in the river running up through the streets
and the face of every girl and woman with her lover
by firelight was beautiful.
Had the city been nuked
by a terrorist or rogue nation I would not have minded dying
there,
with them, that night. It is possible
to be several million strong
and every homeless man with a singing voice belong.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
I see those words of trite frivolity
Words of surface anger and childish spite
Words written to hurt others instead of relieve their own pain
Defended by your words of seeming righteousness
I see your words that seem to propagate
The overinflated egos of the tedious, tiring, and mundane
Yet attack just the same the differences that make life interesting
I see the truth in your hypocrisy
I see the lies in your delusions of grandeur
I see popularity has been mistaken for true friendship
You lead your flock of insipid sheep to decimate the poetic landscape
Without acknowledging the beauty in the jagged rocks
Words hurt just as much to read as to hear
Even when they are not meant for my ears
I feel those words that have been seen as heroic
I feel their truth in an honor perceived by the selfish and vapid
There are no apologies for defending those who have already defended themselves
It breeds a mob mentality that works against what you claim to stand for
Freedom in all things
Free speech, free love, free artistic license
Yet censoring the unwanted by force feeding your opinion as fact
Spewing repeated derision, contempt, and disdain
That is not peace in poetry
That is not an honorable act
And it is not an oversight, sadly
I prefer peace and tranquility
To an eye for an eye
Vengeance has no place here
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
==={♡}===
this morn I saw a feather white
fall to concrete. solid. grey
almost as an aftersight
the westward wind
took it away
today i saw two butterflies
bright wing'd jewels
upon the breeze
how could a creature
such as i
be company
to such as these?
a tiny bird eclipsed my sight
a peridot with eyes of black
no branch had she
on which to light
but was not mindful
of the lack
my soul doth fly
with pain'd wing
for suffering my heart doth cry
my voice has naught to sing
my inmost self
is doomed to die
upon love's branch
i would delight
upon love's breast
I'd fully lean
but 'tis a divine oversight
i walk this world alone
unseen
majestic mountains will arise
and move to places
God has planned
before my heart
unknown. despised
will find
a proper
place
to
land
for landing's cause i set my course
for hills will part into a wraith
i have a will to take by force
i will fimd haven
in my faith
soulsurvivor
(C) 2/14/2015
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
This title, this challenge,
Has rested uncomfortably in IPad memory,
Storage unit for Poems Needing Composition,
Unwritten, unanswered, needy for resolution.
Today is a good day to answer.
You are the pause between my breaths,
A ledge to rest on, a stepping stone,
Without you, there is no next one.
You are audience faithful,
Scribbles, wordplay, jokes horrible,
Official Storer/Inspiration Sorcerer of my unending script.
You are shy critic, unwavering,
Deft, with feminine oversight,
Knowledgable proven, when silence, best.
You overfill my AM coffee cup,
The mug that advises sagely,
Be calm in you heart.
You overfill my PM cup nightly,
Knowing that even tho, can't sing or dance,
I need to, can do, can't do w/o you.
So lest, mistaken grievous,
You think, highly erroneous,
This poem is NOT about me babe,
This poem is entitled,
You,
How Much, Owed,
You.
Lest the answer be poetically muddled,
On this day, perfect weather, perfect clarity,
Unashamedly Everything.
Sept. 15th 2012
In bed, 8:22 am
NYC
---------------
Addendum June 29th 2012
This old soul loves you more. He cannot believe his good fortune,
This June, this one more perfect afternoon, my heart importunes,
Love my poetry like I love thee, and we will have the most
Perfect Union
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
Come on buffalo,
Open your mouth,
Of your oral cavity,
Let us collect some tissue,
And let us collect some saliva too,
And then we test for some trefoils,
Fingers crossed – let the expression be true.
It has got to be there,
We know it for humans,
But of buffaloes, we know not,
Let us perform a preliminary study,
There has not been much research,
There is just a foggy, hazy oversight,
Scientific charm – the expression is positive.
Molecular markers in the electrophoresis unit,
Mixed with a visualising dye – the ETBR,
Yes, they will dance positively as expressed,
Against 400 base pairs expressed are the TFFs,
Tough to master this technique moderately is,
We have to take numerous precautions,
Especially with the poisonous visualising dye.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 5:37 PM UTC
It’s odd
To be so intensely connected with one self’s interior…
To constantly bathe in past memories like sepia coated 60s reel…
To flip through emotions, cataloging their density yet being unable to see through the great complex field…
How does one have the entire plot?
How does one have all the development?
Yet lack the ability to articulate a proper character analysis?
It seems almost nonsensical,
To have all the experience but none of the memories.
Is it the time, a track not run all the way through?
Or is it a common oversight, a piece just out of view?
All this musing feels a bit inane,
These cyclical thoughts nearly driving me insane.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
The Lawncrest Acres State Hospital for the Incurably Poetic -
I think dear Granddad, the good doctor,
once practiced there as a clinician
(and as patient once, too)
his writing otherwise confined in public eyes
to those horribly dry tomes whose titles began
"On the practice of..."
whereupon he may have gone
on to expound the virtues of religion in psychiatry
as measured in cross sectional study
or harsh parenting as inherent to induction of pathology
But at home he would write
the sweetest poems to us
on birthdays or just because...
he never wrote one for me, oversight I'm sure,
as I roamed the floor
in his house, same as all the others.
So maybe that's why I secretly try
to be a poet like he was.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 8:29 PM UTC