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Thursday, August 27, 2015

Carrot Top

You cannot trust red hair,
This sounds racist, I know,
It is not like shifty eyes or a tick,
But when you've naught to go

On, observe the color of the tresses.
If rust, run like a train,
Whether the dye or the nat'ral pigment,
The hue seeps from the roots into the brain,

P'haps it drips down o'er the nerves from the eyes,
Not rose-colored glasses,
But capote, showing gold seeing red,
Birthing deadly lasses,
This is unfair,
Based on my exper'ence,
You must find the trait of which to beware,
Per G.I Joe, knowing's the best defense.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

The Road Is Less Traveled

They paint on the concrete,
Yellow, white and orange,
Lines, arrows, diamonds, chevrons and shoulders,
To show bound'ries or range,

But ev-eryone knows the paint won't last,
One day it disappears,
But the message it sends ain't eternal,
And will itself fade in just a few years,

Nor will the concrete survive forever,
Tread 'pon repeatedly,
The earth shifting constantly under it,
Like it misleaded me.
Or least  tried to,
Hide what's past horizons,
But we humans vow to cross any lines,
Whether us living now, or by our sons.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

It's Never Too Late

Everything is out there,
There's nothing left to see,
No secret force hid behind a curtain,
Pulling the gov'ment's strings,

It's all there in the news and TV shows,
Truth's the same as fiction,
If it's been imagined, then bet it's real,
Or it is on its way to creation,

That is how to find your place in this world,
Imagine yourself there,
Hence they say be careful what you wish for,
And to do it with care.
This is good news,
The world is your oyster,
But you have to learn how to shuck the thing,
Or you'll never get the chance to taste her.

Monday, August 24, 2015

Is Today The Day?

Today might be the day,
The day it's fin'lly done,
Well, ultimately I hope it's a start,
Of a new direction,

To be clear, I'm talking about my book,
In case there's confusion,
It had started more than two years ago,
Most ev'ry morning, 'bout an hour session,

What it is now, I never would have guessed,
So diff'rent, yet the same,
Adding layer after layer four times,
Until the closure came,
Then there's today,
It's supposed to come back,
Though, the past tells me not to hold my breath,
I've been here at least three times in the past.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Morning

So, I get up early,
I've done so my whole life,
Before the things that need get done must start,
Duties with which it's rife,

Nothing against what we all have to do,
To keep this world going,
Assuming, of course, it's the world you want,
Sometimes, I think, my mom was all-knowing,

She knew that one needs time to be alone,
Time for meditation,
Whatever that actually means for you,
For real relaxation.

Maybe it's work,
Ya, not so much for me,
Unless it's work to write down what you think,
Then I am a regular busy bee.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Quick Hammock

You don't have a hammock?!
I know there're other things,
One thinks of first when trying to survive,
'Stead of, "How shall I swing?"

But still, placed in the perfect location,
Not too much shade or sun,
As as windy as you can possibly find,
Neither end too high hung,

A well-made one, both mesh or cloth will do,
Double-wide with pillow,
Lots of trees with leaves that hum in the breeze,
There's nothing you'd like more,
After eating,
And drinking, too, of course,
Shelter, peace and the meaning of life.
After that, a hammock's the tour de force.

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

To The Stars

Looking at the night sky,
The stars perfectly set,
Forming constellations I cannot see,
Massive bodies at rest,

Forming shapes for us, millennia old,
How do they keep their place,
In the vastness of an endless vacuum,
Nothing between them to maintain the space?

It's said there's gravity keeping balance,
Invisible, just sensed,
We see effects, then name the unknown cause,
Cops planting evidence.
And yes, I know,
That stars do, in fact, move,
Tracing the same steps ev'ryday they live,
Appears to me that they're human, that proves.