Will an eligible bloke happier be if he
Marries a ranking *ele like Miss Universe
With all her glory and graces, and 'cause
Of marriage mirth? Will a sheila pretty
An unbroken regalement have for a dream
Prince Charming--the fairy man of her whim?

Will the soul be jolly for the sophomore
More than for the frosh rapture of success
Had in the Ivy League of cosmic business,
When the heart cut a caper and an encore
Of hilarity requests of narrowed life--
To have constant binge in lieu of strive?

What man is wholly from trouble free, whose
Being be to sadness inured? Within, the
Spokes do sometimes snap at the rotary
Wheels of serenity, and chaos is let loose.
What thus can stay the pillars of pleasure in
A plagued world is above this little noggin.

this old heart
wasn’t always so old,
it once was young and
tenderfoot,
wandering through days and
seeking regalement at night.

this old heart
rarely defeated it’s angst,
clenching fists at duelists
only with intentions of
defeasance,
never relegating the significance
of the win but focusing on the
sacking in a loss.

this old heart
played board games with
his sister on snow days after
laying out paths in the white dust
with an orange saucer
while chasing a laughter
only the belly could muster.

this old heart
was once a boy,
with hair like the white hot sun
on an August afternoon,
with bronze skin running about the grass,
chasing an aging brown dog with a ball
in it’s mouth.

this old heart
was once a boy, yes,
but remains no longer.

this old heart grows weary now.
this old heart bears weight.
this old heart stopped asking questions.
this old heart doesn’t laugh.
this old heart has no dog.
this old heart gets lost in the dark
whiling staring into the blinding sun.

Drift form sweet where others melt in reality
sing the songs of goodness and of happy heart
those young in soul do try to justify their honour
yet the dry arid days are without knowledge cool
does make pity on the dreadful human mind
as making regalement so sad linear destiny

Till the morning the lonely cry
as dawn comes so slowly defined
so make your discontent a holy trinity
prey with good form pure and right
maybe there could be better days ahead
if with forgiveness you keep your head

What is the call to the brotherhood of man
for most fall from the tree of true Eden
so let the clowns jest and waste sweet days
then make merry their idiotic selfish ways
like in the jet stream of reason
without the clipped wings of time

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris