10/23/11

It does not do to hate the world for what cannot be ours,
To rage against our fates and curse all wants beyond our powers.
It serves not, to resent the life which others have and hold.
Instead, we must invent our own new story to unfold.

10/22/11

Dreams are rains that gently feed,
And beckon flowers from the ground,
But sometimes form to storms of need,
And floods in which all else is drowned.

10/21/11

The telephone, an instrument of wonder and despair,
Allowing us to live out our existence from afar,
Directing change in drastic ways when you're not even there.
Then drawing and distracting your attention when you are.

10/20/11

The leaper falls, so having missed,
The far, adjacent precipice,
And landing short to dance the air,
He rides a chasm of despair.
But as he ponders his descent,
Perhaps he finds enlightenment-
A wisdom rare and only found,
Beneath great heights upon the ground.

10/19/11

We often find it hard accepting gifts that we receive.
Such acts of simple kindness leave us flustered and unnerved.
So seldom are our hearts expecting generosity,
That, in our modest blindness, we assume it's undeserved.

10/18/11

One of them said what he'd do,
One of them said what he'd done.
But when the arguments were through,
We trusted neither one.

10/17/11

The world would be a better place. On this, we're all agreed.
Yet, to this end, I often fear the lengths that people go.
Perhaps the world would be a better place to dwell, indeed,
If we would not take such great pains to try and make it so.

10/16/11

Some claim arriving late is very rude,
A careless, thoughtless act of indolence,
A crass and disregardful attitude.
Yet, I would venture that the worse offense,
Occurs when one is strictly so inclined,
To planning perfect, punctuality.
That they arrive, instead, ahead of time.
The late, at least, may garner sympathy,
For what misfortunes and adverse events,
Conspired to restrict them in their gait.
An early caller claims no such defense,
Implying that you were not worth the wait.

10/15/11

Wraiths and fiendish ghouls descend,
May attic stair- it's time again,
For wicked creatures, seldom seen,
To walk the earth on Halloween.
The skeletons, the living dead,
And several disembodied heads,
Awaken from their cardboard crypts,
To revel in mischievousness
One by one, they slowly rise,
From yearly slumber to reprise,
Their roles of terror, shock and fright,
Which feed our morbid, dark, delight.
Release all creatures from their tombs,
All-Hallow's-Eve approaches soon!