Poems for the mildly off-beat

As a freak of nature
I was
nurtured to be a fool.

It makes me terribly
sad so
joyous I want to be.

Foolish I want to be
but a
terrible silence mutes me.

Happy happy happy
I am
sometimes in counterpoint.

Disturbing is a three-syllable word.
It does not sound soothing.
The air is released in different ways.

Indifferent ways …


Teary eyes there they sit eating their ice
Making sense so commonly, small wonder
To feel a-part does or not does suffice
Expections set apart, make us wander.

Funny thing: you trip I fall we part our
Ways in this winter of your discontent
Softly falling sweetly snowlike ne’er sour
The kings’ queen dreamy of dismemberment.

Counting, counting on, syllables to eight
You are my savior they so distant
Tons of expectations crashing their weight
Being fed bullshit, here we make our stand.

Under a tree, leaves falling we no more
Standing not as we thought though good enough
No ice cream for us dreamy to the core
Better to gently sleep than to wake all tough.

Ideas Ideas. I Thee Ass.


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