poem
SO SERENE
WATCHING THE LEAVES
DANCE IN THE BREEZE
GIVING IN
TO THE WIND
GRACEFULLY
RELAXING ME
BIRDS SING
SIGHT UNSEEN
SOME FLY BY
CATCHING MY EYE
COMPLETING THE SCENE
THAT'S SO SERENE
IMPROVISE
IF ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE
WHAT PART DO YOU PLAY
DO YOU MEMORIZE LINES
OR IMPROVISE
IMPROVISATION IS MY SCENE
JUST KEEP ON IMAGINING
YOU NEVER REALLY KNOW
WHAT GOES ON IN THIS SHOW
IT'S ALL UP TO YOU
HOPES AND DREAMS
ARE MIRACULOUS THINGS
WISHES CAN COME TRUE
GUESS IT SEEMS
SINGING WITH YOUR HEART STRINGS
BELIEVING IT WILL DO
MURPHY'S LAW
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN AFFECTED
BY MURPHY'S LAW
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CONNECTED
TO SUCH ONSLAUGHT
IT'S ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER
HARD TO BELIEVE
IN AWHILE YOU DISCOVER
YOU ARE NAIVE
IF ANYTHING CAN GO WRONG IT WILL
KEEP HAPPENING IF YOU SAY
WHATELSE CAN POSSIBLY GO WRONG
HERE COMES MORE TO YOUR DISMAY
WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T SAY IT
GET THAT THOUGHT OUT OF YOUR HEAD
CUZ ONCE IT'S PUT IN MOTION
THE CONSEQUENCE IS WIDESPREAD
DON'T ASK WHY
IF YOU CAN'T TAKE YOUR OWN ADVICE
THEN WHY SHOULD I
IF YOU CAN'T REALLY PAY THE PRICE
THEN DO NOT BUY
IF YOU CAN'T OVERANALYZE
THEN DON'T ASK WHY
GET THIS IN YOUR HEAD
ASK WHY NOT INSTEAD
NOT EXACT
NOT SPECIFIC
NOT ABSTRACT
NOT TERRIFIC
NOT THAT BAD
NOT THAT HAPPY
NOT THAT SAD
NOT THAT CRAPPY
NOT THAT RAD
NOT QUITE FICTION
NOT QUITE FACT
NOT TRADITION
NOT EXACT
rhyme
.
Wooden beat with a bludgeoning thud
thumps and bumps as a boulder whumps
whence thought its sound hurrumps
harrass and hound each bloody turn
.
DAYDREAM
SOMETIMES WHEN I DAYDREAM
I GET SO LOST IN THOUGHT
ESCAPING FROM REALITY
I TRY NOT TO GET CAUGHT
OFF IN SPACE CADET LAND
FAR FROM THE MUNDANE
THE TRIP IS NEVER REALLY PLANNED
IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN
MORE OF A SENSATION
JUST SEEM TO SLIP AWAY
ON A PRIVATE VACATION
MIGHT SEE YOU THERE SOMEDAY
when it alteration found
Altered at the altar, found a heart wanting
Let into a marriage of illusory minds, not
Ever admitting impediment. Where love
Ever shifting, alterations accepted, bent,
Removed with its remover, plays pretend:
O yes! It never was a fixéd mark
That conjures tempests and quakes
At its thought, north star to questers
Whose value betrays its measure.
This love fools time with pallid lips
And pinched cheeks that bleed freely
It alters swifter than eyelashes bat
And bears no malice real or imagined
Unto its error's end, cannot be proved
Writing ensues and love again, renewed.