Pleasing self, easing myself,
kindling rhythm, fumbling mayhem,
I am musing and fusing and refusing,
I sleep all day and work all night,
refuse to sleep, weep and walk,
when I am growing fat,
my pants hung up on the wall
as if someday I will be slim again and I can wear them out...
I get bored,
I get shit scared,
Afraid I might say something,
I am passionate about living,
But more often I am loathing,
Looking for work, but with a compulsion,
Pleasing & easing,
Making my life.... the story of my life
| I like it , I think it has a nice ring to it. |
This is a good write. and I am flatered that
you were inspired to write a poem.
No, Mother nature did her thing on the other
side of the James River. I, myself was doing my laundry watching the News as it happened.
I wanted to be some where else, with someone else, doing something else. as wishful thinking go's. but thanks for asking.
The Poor Man's Poet.
|| Posted on 2008-05-01 00:00:00 | by Bobby K | [ Reply to This ] |