Life Poems

Poems for a Broader Experience

The Rawness

WONDERing is wonderment;
Better described as aspiring
To know what it meant,
Why it’s transpiring,
What it is and isn’t;
And you find it inspiring
You’ve looked to this extent
Without your interest expiring.
What it is, is an unbent
Will that could be tiring,
To only the extent
That your life is spent acquiring
Things which definitely are
The things you find so un-ispiring;
A taste like a cheap cigar;
Some milk, expiring;
A boring ass seminar
With a speaker untiring.

ANGER is bitterness, a lesson in self defeat,
Ultimately leading you back to your seat
Where you were uncomfortable to begin with;
And in that reflective moment you just excrete
All the negative things that are just an entreat
To suck other people into your scieve;
To be cast to the bottom, no retreat,
Away from the things you value, incomplete
In your own very personal, very dark
...oubliette.

Today is the day...
I just can’t wait
Until I find my fate
That leads me away
From this awful place;
A lace
That leads to a line
That defines all my time
Within a construct of my own delusion;
A place of requited happiness
Devoid of all the emotional contusion,
Lacking all the bitterness,
And full of all the greatest occlusions
That make me feel the fullest.
And so...

I dream a dream
Of all that sings to me;
In all the hours of all the days
It rings true to me:
That to dream my dream
Is to gather steam to find my steeple;
To change the way I see people,
To articulate the depths of my emotional capacity
And to give me just enough audacity
To deal those blows to the rapacity
That wants to run my life;
The line I walk between strive and strife;
All the things said by people so rife
With things I don’t know to be true;
Who say it to sound less blue and less aloof,
Without offering a shred of truth
Or a bit of sense in all of it (to be honest)

Don’t call me maybe, call me a taxi lady
To take me to my cradle baby
For all the sleep I need;
In this moment so grand, I forgot how to stand,
And fell down in a miserable heep
Into a puddle so deep,
I wish that it were quicksand.