Freedom, the people without and the choices involved...
High time I about exited.
Exit it before I'm thrown out on a whim.
Whimsical, isn't it?
Satirical, isn't it?
Bullshit...isn't it...
Take your place at the end of your life's line
and the future will come later than originally planned.
Stand upright and uptight if you intend on being tended to.
Don't go astray or it will be given away..to the next...and the next...
"Next up to plate is fate"...wearing double zeros,
as the clock ticks down to infinity...
It enriches me with freedom to choose whether its 6 AM or 6 PM...
As the face of that very clock smiles at me
and tells me of somebody else's dream....
I try to stay awake and listen...try to participate...
as I nod...I'm nodding...off to sleep.......................
...I then run for miles without breath or water
for death is the order of the day...
"I'll have mine with fries"...as for dessert, I'll be forced to desert my apple pies.
As food is meaningless when your mouth has been taped shut.
Speak not, unless you are spoken to; and exact discipline,
as disciples to an exactness that is forced by those who...or whom are not able to fly without air...or run without sight
...is it night or day?...Even that has an answer...
What does the clock say?
His face is empty...
He smiled once...now he rings loud with pain eternal
at the torture of being just that....
Knowing that is all he'll ever be...
Telling time to those who are blinded by the time they have to be with whom..or who...and time after time...this time, his time has been erased...by time.
Arising in the dawn of this irrelative banter...a purpose finally comes...
In a yawn that exclaims life....
A nudge from a wife...and a child that smashes clocks ring with a cry of ignorance...Ignorance is bliss, but I miss its mark...as it was set by them...but then again...
There's always 6 o'clock.
Poetry by TheNakedPoet
Read 225 times
Written on 2007-01-03 at 23:23
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A Midday's Midnight
Souls...much left to the unimagined, transfixed on real time.High time I about exited.
Exit it before I'm thrown out on a whim.
Whimsical, isn't it?
Satirical, isn't it?
Bullshit...isn't it...
Take your place at the end of your life's line
and the future will come later than originally planned.
Stand upright and uptight if you intend on being tended to.
Don't go astray or it will be given away..to the next...and the next...
"Next up to plate is fate"...wearing double zeros,
as the clock ticks down to infinity...
It enriches me with freedom to choose whether its 6 AM or 6 PM...
As the face of that very clock smiles at me
and tells me of somebody else's dream....
I try to stay awake and listen...try to participate...
as I nod...I'm nodding...off to sleep.......................
...I then run for miles without breath or water
for death is the order of the day...
"I'll have mine with fries"...as for dessert, I'll be forced to desert my apple pies.
As food is meaningless when your mouth has been taped shut.
Speak not, unless you are spoken to; and exact discipline,
as disciples to an exactness that is forced by those who...or whom are not able to fly without air...or run without sight
...is it night or day?...Even that has an answer...
What does the clock say?
His face is empty...
He smiled once...now he rings loud with pain eternal
at the torture of being just that....
Knowing that is all he'll ever be...
Telling time to those who are blinded by the time they have to be with whom..or who...and time after time...this time, his time has been erased...by time.
Arising in the dawn of this irrelative banter...a purpose finally comes...
In a yawn that exclaims life....
A nudge from a wife...and a child that smashes clocks ring with a cry of ignorance...Ignorance is bliss, but I miss its mark...as it was set by them...but then again...
There's always 6 o'clock.
Poetry by TheNakedPoet
Read 225 times
Written on 2007-01-03 at 23:23
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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