I need a better pillow.
Cigarette smoke because stupid is all the rage-
I'm played out of rhythm,
Out of sync with the days like
I owe it to the world to go along with the craze.
Amazed, no astounded, bouncing like rebounding,
Possession of the highs despite
The lows they bring about me.
I leveled with my frame of mind
Outside of the boundaries,
And now it seems I've melted down to
Shape up at the foundry.
Bedeviled out of right and wrong,
Born out of a family.
Raised as though perspective's
Both a curse AND a luxury.
"Trust in Me" churches lost in fear
As much as enmity,
I can't believe that we refuse
The inevitability.
Without a moral compass now we use
GPS for direction,
A little modern flair that burned through
Adventure's inflection.
Accurate as hell you'll get exactly where you're goin',
Staring at the screen
Praising human invention.
Passing every hurdle because the jump
Is too much effort.
Praise the Lord above for power steering,
Easing our endeavors.
It's no wonder that it's four a.m. and I'm sitting alone
Atop this hill about a quarter mile
Up the road from my home.
As this page begins to dampen,
My words all laden with "do",
The truth is I could have tapped all of this into my phone.
And the ink wouldn't have smeared,
My thoughts all saved there forever.
I could have seen what I was writing
Instead of scribble with pleasure.
In the dark under the stars
Where I'm driftin' through the haze,
Played out of rhythm.
Out of sync with the days.
Poetry by Phill
Read 806 times
Written on 2013-06-11 at 10:22
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Out of Sync
As I'm drifting through the haze-Cigarette smoke because stupid is all the rage-
I'm played out of rhythm,
Out of sync with the days like
I owe it to the world to go along with the craze.
Amazed, no astounded, bouncing like rebounding,
Possession of the highs despite
The lows they bring about me.
I leveled with my frame of mind
Outside of the boundaries,
And now it seems I've melted down to
Shape up at the foundry.
Bedeviled out of right and wrong,
Born out of a family.
Raised as though perspective's
Both a curse AND a luxury.
"Trust in Me" churches lost in fear
As much as enmity,
I can't believe that we refuse
The inevitability.
Without a moral compass now we use
GPS for direction,
A little modern flair that burned through
Adventure's inflection.
Accurate as hell you'll get exactly where you're goin',
Staring at the screen
Praising human invention.
Passing every hurdle because the jump
Is too much effort.
Praise the Lord above for power steering,
Easing our endeavors.
It's no wonder that it's four a.m. and I'm sitting alone
Atop this hill about a quarter mile
Up the road from my home.
As this page begins to dampen,
My words all laden with "do",
The truth is I could have tapped all of this into my phone.
And the ink wouldn't have smeared,
My thoughts all saved there forever.
I could have seen what I was writing
Instead of scribble with pleasure.
In the dark under the stars
Where I'm driftin' through the haze,
Played out of rhythm.
Out of sync with the days.
Poetry by Phill
Read 806 times
Written on 2013-06-11 at 10:22
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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