9/22/11

Nothing ever matters really,

But to love and sing and laugh.

This will let us live ideally,

Or else, make us psychopaths.

9/21/11

There are some days I feel disgust,

At my own lack of faith in man,

These base suspicions and distrust,

That skew my movements, words, and plans.

I wonder, is my heart too hard?

And every time I yield control,

The instant that I drop my guard,

I learn I can not trust a soul.

9/20/11

There once was a person who needed to show,

That he was the best and the smartest of all,

And even in times when this just wasn't so,

He learned to inflate things, no matter how small.

Thus people would think he did more than his share.

Of course, if he couldn't, he simply would steal,

But give minor credit, to prove he was fair,

And make his contrived contributions seem real.

He'd always agree, whether falsehood or true,

Unless he could profit from shooting you down.

When no one was watching, he'd ask what you knew,

Then make you look small with his betters around.

He did all these things to help get him ahead,

This talentless hack with an envious thirst.

The irony is, one fine day he was dead,

And for all his plotting, he'd gotten there first.

9/19/11

Words running rampant,

For every detail,

Thread like a serpent,

That eats it's own tail.

No resolution,

As each cycle breaks,

Waxing solution,

Then waining opaque.

Soon we are swallowed,

By all our own thoughts,

Proffered and followed,

Then countered and caught.

Whirlpools in oceans,

Which drown and destroy,

Spiraling motions,

Encircling a void.

Growth in slow tangents,

Like shell on a snail.

Words running rampant,

For every detail.

9/18/11

At times we find ourselves involved,

In needed fits of exercise,

A newfound passion and resolve,

To physically achieve our best.

More oft than not this task revolves,

Around financial enterprise,

Investment as a means to solve,

The issue of our laziness.

For nothing else will guarantee,

Our promises remain intact,

Than offering a precious fee,

Ensuring we obtain results.

We join a club and hope to be,

Enabled through this costly pact.

For only by these means shall we,

Behave at all like grown adults.

9/17/11

A crisp chill stings the autumn air,

Our senses are confused and fooled

Though skies are clear, uncluttered blue,

And sunlight streams, all warmth is cooled.

Brown patches form within the green,

As slowly, growth becomes undone.

A whisper through a summer scene,

That tells of winter soon to come.

9/16/11

A weekend without any plans,

No chores or projects to complete,

No set appointments or demands.

Two days, an unmarked, clean white sheet.

A canvas bare and waiting still,

For color, structure, shades and light,

Left for our pallette minds to fill,

With varied options of delight.

When, years from now, we reminisce,

Upon our long lived histories,

Those times we count most full and rich,

Will be such empty days as these.