"posibilities" poems
doopth..doopth..doopth..
the intonation of a gavel
upon a felted block
order, orrrder,
i now call to order this
washday gathering
of the
metaphysical
analytical
socks
drawer # 1793
all rise and come to toetip
for the grand entry of
the great thrice darned heel
kazoos squeak the intro
to the ode to joy
an old grey golf sock is
ushered in to sit slouched
on the top of the washer/dryer.
he observes the following proceedings.
now to business
the agenda for the day
1. groove and the toe socks
table their report on the
systematic eradication of toejam.
2.the tradditionalists continue
the open discussion on,
wool versus synthetic,
for winterwear.
3.we have a vote scheduled
on the referedum matter:
do we allow sandals and thongs
guest status in this drawer.
4.the metaphysicists update
us on the age old conundrum;
"where do the odd socks go?"
at present they are devling
into the posibilities of
superposition of states,
as presented by
the schrodinger's cat theory.
5. the analytical group are meanwhile, surveying the remaining
evenless socks;
to obtain data on the pairless state of being
6. and finally, we welcome a deposition from the natralists;
with regard to use of bamboo
and hemp to allow for the wicking
of footwater, for a longer lasting
freshness of the base arch construction.
please feel free to attend one or
more of these discussions, contributions and /or questions
will be taken after the presentations.
i am also asked to inform you, that
the metatarsals group has a table of goods for sale, at the leftside of the wash basket.
items include:
new elastics and darning equipment.
books on special this meet are;
the ever popular
"how not to become a sock puppet"
and the tragic
"my life as a duster"
then there is the new offering of
"sox and jox:
the art of underwear
diplomacy."
and one last item of note:
a reminder that membership fees,
(of one clean toe clipping) are due
before next months gathering
go now,
enjoy the gathering.
and may the foot be with you
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:39 AM UTC
Im held to the ground by my imperfections. Dodging bullets thrown by those in need of correction. Understanding that life is filled with much uncertainty, acting only on the knowledge that I am most certainly free. Held to my actions and words by the thought of perfection, being only that which determins selections. Into a realm by which the humble are seeking, gained only by those whose words are worth speaking. Determined by a world whose ear seem cut off and closed, and unwilling to listen to that which they are opposed. But truth can be heard by the hearts of the few, whose minds are filled with possibilities anew. Whos lives are practice in the faith of whats real, but whos minds are not blinded to what true beauty can reveal. Because truth doesnt come through trial and error, truth comes from understanding that we are all rare. Held together by a contract of emotions and deeds, that defines us as a society with real human needs. To be loved and accepted, held and adored. To act on these wishes and hope to find reward. Because when the reaper comes to collect on our debt, we are all going to wish to wake in a cold sweat. To find more presious time, in our running hour glass. To hold on to each grain and not let it pass. Without cherishing the moment and giving it our heart. Without telling those we love, they are a work of art. Painted by the Picaso of the ground that we walk. Whos motives no one will ever unlock. But disagree on forever, untill the end of time we will. And break our human contract with the blood that we spill. Of our bothers and sisters who feel just the same, as the men and women who share our last name. So read me your books and give me your shame. For logic is my shepard for this world i look to tame. For i hold in my heart a truth unknown. One not found in a book or scripture alone. Or known by those who try to speak fear, through a book whose hypocricy is well too clear. One only found when you see a mans true soul, and realize 'that is all i need to know.' To stare at the only perfection this world will ever know, and hold him in the same regards as winters first snow. Or summers true spirit, or falls pure brilliance. Or when the sea meets a rocks true resiliance. Imperfection may hold me firm to the ground, but my spirits true beauty holds no bounds. And when the world can see one another through each others eyes, then humanities posibilities will break all its ties. Will be stripped of its shackles and free of its chains. Will be free of its stife and know no pain. And we as a beautify creation of perfection itself, will finally find peace in oneself.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 10:19 PM UTC
Why does good stuff happen to bad people
and bad stuff to good people?
that i can not say.
I dont have a way
It's a mystery to some
Every day you see sad faces
It's because of those horrible
people and places.
The posibilities of sadness is endless.
I live for hope
I wish someone could help and bring soap to clean all the lies.
It's like an endless stream of flies.
I cant, I wont
says the lazy ******** of today
just wait i will see what you say one day
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:11 PM UTC
The song in my poem
is pure gold
My poem
overflows with cuddly music
that's a comfort when I'm forsaken
and is re-assuring when days are bad
The song in my poem is for all seasons
devastating when I'm in ruins
fortifying when I march to my demise
and a prompt for the compulsive actions
of the fools of history
The song in my poem
can lead you to perdition and oblivion
or it can lead you to ecstacy and contrived joy
or the sweet freedom of being gone forever
I am alive to all the posibilities on life's menu
and I'm the gourmet that chefs rustle up the magic for
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
Silhouettes of lovers as they dance throughout the night
Iridescent colors on a flower soon to die
Faceless images that lash out in the final scene
Horrified to realize this isn't a mere dream
Will you search with me for means of unity
In a world that doesn't care
Time is an eternity, a star filled galaxy
That leads nowhere
Life is like and endless road, a fateful tragedy
We seldom share
Picture perfect memories that are dusted off the shelf
A rose that wilts through endless nights seeks light to nurture health
Whispered voices echo from within a silent rage
Images that mirror all the changes to be made
Will you search with me for trust and honesty
In a world that doesn't care
Time is an eternity, a star filled galaxy
That leads nowhere
Life is like and endless road, a fateful tragedy
We seldom share
Kaleidoscopic tapestries
Reflecting posibilities
Sculpting out in magesty
A love that can endure
Time is an eternity, a star filled galaxy
That leads nowhere
Life is like and endless road, a fateful tragedy
We seldom share
Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
I don't like to admit this,
But once every year,
I summon all of my courage,
And shove down my fears,
I let my mind wander,
Let myself roam,
Through all the posibilities,
All the paths my life could go,
I find over time its gotten harder to say,
That I just might not want my life to play out this way,
Maybe I want just a little more for myself,
Maybe what I'm doing is poor to my health,
Maybe I need to work on my life,
Figure out who I am, what to change and whats right,
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Hey you!
Yes you
You couldn't hide your words behind your poetic gallery!
One day they will shout they will want to call their own desires
Respond all posibilities
Don't let the tornado get heavy
Let me bring my tea
And feel free
To see
You& me
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 3:59 PM UTC