Posts tagged ‘Writing Poetry’

July 31, 2014

Taxing Life

Life Taxing:
we sit behind walls to pay for sitting behind walls.

Wheels spin, no gas on deck,
armies fight wars waged for black gold;
these things are related.

Glass punctures and creates an escape,
you sit roadside with a flat-tire and deflated ego.

An IED blows off a soldier’s leg,
an obese man eats a sandwich and drinks a diet coke,
a beautiful young model hates her reflection; finding flaws;
a CEO makes money.

And no one knew the half.

Birds fly,
rivers flow,
a book weighs down a hand,
words play heavy on the head.

Cottonwood seeds float on thick air,
tombstones bask in the sun.
So far away no voice could reach;
even so not of native tongues.

Days we have lost and the one that just began,
my toast is burnt,
furniture sits un-rearranged.
Affects leave me unchanged;
for certain of, same, -oh distaste.

Life goes on
a cat meows
a clock ticks
the heat moves in and settles down
Fall is here.

Only this time it’s without you.
I wish I could tell you about that.

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May 27, 2014

How to Label an Artist/Author

The Art we delegate
From our own perspectives
Shapes our lives by our objectives

Down along the river
Or near a country farm
Intersecting thoughts which gather alarm

One sees it as this
One sees it as that
But who took the time to create the abstract?

Drunk on a bent
Metallic mouth of pills
Constructing a piece of horror for simple thrills

Other way around
Small city, big town
We have nothing to be ashamed of; these entities which confound

Orthodox rigid
Purely stuck in her ways
Running and ruining the lot, dictating thorough days

She stood so tall
Fat shiny red virago
‘Nothing new under the sun’, she said- let that swine waddle

Pictures in mind
Drawings in chalk
Some people are artists, while others are just talk

Strolling through woods
Park groves we stalk
The sights and sounds accumulate here on this walk

Figure a fitting label
Sit at sparse dinner table
The wind blows in performing a fable

Absolute absolves
We can make it, one and all
That of which we announce as “Art”, -exclusively they call

Most things are Art, and some things are not
To be an artist you must show what you’ve got.