In the pursuit of happiness
Americans chase fortune and fame
gold galore and a place
where everyone knows their name
but they could tone it down a bit
and not go loudly announcing it
to all and sundry with every word
it seems infinitely preferable
if some are seen and never heard
but on the other hand in another land
while leading lives of quiet desperation
trapped in their traditional ways
the British hang on in hope
of distant future better days
and tho' always first to join a queue
there are the few exceptions who
break the rule at every chance
don't give a whit or backward glance
hats off to them for their contribution
as every generation needs a new revolution
Chasing the unforgiving cruise of fleeting years,
I dash at lightning speed hoping to apprehend
Slowing impediments and crippling fears;
Fettering setbacks that arcs of successes bend.
And I know not if I’ll at last prevail
Or shall to failure’s claws succumb;
But whether I will excel or dismally fail
I’ll keep trying till all toil’s rewards come.
Chasing the unforgiving cruise of fleeting years,
I dash at lightning speed hoping to apprehend
Slowing impediments and crippling fears;
Fettering setbacks that arcs of successes bend.
And I know not if I’ll at last prevail
Or shall to failure’s claws succumb;
But whether I will excel or dismally fail
I’ll keep trying till all toil’s rewards come.
You made me to your making
this hideous hide of being
I roam the world
of ice and barren trees
starving
(more hungering)
than food will fill
or sustaining reason
I find myself, by taper light,
a more hollow skeleton
than bones of baren solitude
Chase me, Frankenstein!
Your despondent soul, can still see me
a blot away on a desolate sea,
a stiller ice, an unfathomable sand
I will be where dreams shall see!
From my drone, I see you far below
The elk stampedes, the red rocks glow
I'm like the storm over the plain
Can you outrun the rain?
You hope to make it to the black rock lands
But no-one is left, no helping hands
My drone lets loose, a bolt from the blue
The earth erupts, but it misses you.
You think of sunshine before this war
No idea back then what was in store
That foolish empathy now seems in vain
Can you outrun the rain?
You galloped the prairie, now your horse is lame
You dismount you and jog, can't face the blame.
Behind you thunder shakes the plain:
Can you outrun the rain?
You think of the horror that you helped bring
The bombed-out craters where vultures sing.
Truth wasn't your value, that was your stain
You seeded the cloud and now comes the rain.
I send a new command to the drone
I can't go through with this, so I call it home.
My heart goes out to you, I feel your pain
I'll look away while you outrun the rain.
Saw it coming
Started running
Through the woods
As fast as I could
Evil in the mist
Making sinister hiss
Sound
Translating freedom 'going down'
Beautiful mirage arrived
No fear of going to die
Equipped with answers
From club dancers
Chit chatting away
Screaming about pay
"Ammunition I will fire
Since you seemed to of tired
Do not fear
I have a long neck beer "
Siren made clear
I watched her work
Popped the bubbly cork
After expressing wedding vows
Complementing our moonlight howls
Saw it coming
Started running
Through woods
As fast as I could
Beautiful mirage arrived
Not going to die
Equipped with answers
From club dancers
"Do not fear
I have a long neck beer"
I watched her work
Popped the bubbly cork
After expressing wedding vows
Complementing our moonlight howls
I thought the silence sat heavy,
but only I was carrying the load,
and so only I felt the crushing weight,
of my silence.
I've found that I'm incredible at
running from my problems,
while inciting them to chase me.
But you did a real good job,
of causing them.
Just as you weigh my value,
to another of my blood,
I raise questions of your own,
against so many others,
who ought to be in my life,
in your place. Oh,
how could I ever make you understand?
When my tongue dries up,
moment your hands tighten on the steering wheel.
I'm not one to make my mind known,
and the cloth and wire I wrapped round my neck,
knows that twice as well.
my grief is not aesthetic,
my sleep is not coming,
my fever dream is your absence,
my hope is your damnation,
my pleasure is your absence.
your grief is my imprudence,
your sleep is your nature,
your fever dream is my humiliation,
your hope is my successes,
your pleasure is your mind becoming my own.
The Rudolph poser got away from the police
They chased her but she blended into the ice, as fleece
She cannot get away with it, a detective said with a snap
But they caught up with her because she had taken a nap.
How dare you pretend to be Rudolph, the detective said.
Rudolph poser was groggy; she laid back down her head.
When did you say you were Rudolph? Asked another.
She didn’t ever say it said her cousin, uncle, aunt and mother.
Then how can we arrest her for posing as Rudolph? Asked the Popo.
You can’t stated Santa with a friendly “ho ho ho”.
Who started this rumor? Because it is a lie.
They backed off immediately; according to Dwarf Guy.
A MEOW CHASE
The noise woke me up.
Cat ran from under the bed:
Big rat chasing her!
The Guardian of Hell: A Sinner's Slumber
The obsidian tunnels of this godless realm,
Uncoil like serpents where I blindly tread.
A shadow stalks, a nightmare at the helm,
Feeding upon the frantic steps I dread.
What does he want, this shadow in the smoke?
My ankles drag the burning chains of hell.
He stands above me, draped in misery's cloak,
The brutal keeper of a silent cell.
For what unknown transgression do I weep?
I bear a crushing weight I cannot name.
The dark is suffocating, fierce, and deep,
A blind expanse of agony and shame.
Then through the vault, his iron voice commands:
"Halt, sinner, halt! And face my burning glare!"
The Lord of Ash before my terror stands,
And flings me down into the deep despair.
"Wake up!" he roars, "The pit has claimed its prize!
Confess your hidden crime into the night!
Shatter the silence, strip away the lies,
And only then shall you return to light!"
If you have your heart
set on something
chase it
dreams are meant to be achieved
not wasting or past by
The lure of the chase
crisp fresh autumnal morn
Ah, for a hunt like this man was born
Dogs point their ears
bugles’ blares cut through the air
Leaves crackle underfoot
the prey in their scents, almost there
The first volley of gunpowder’s heard
From the front issue forth triumphant words
midst swirls and eddies of blood ~ a life not spared
“I need more time!” You yelled from upstairs
“I need more time.” You demanded under the door frame
“I need more time,” you whispered breathlessly as you were running, but the bus left anyway
I long to chase the waves
that call to me,
while in memories my soul goes flying
to lands untamed and free.
But I bear a burden
I cannot lay down,
a worn - out thread
and a frail, flickering frame.
So I cannot come.
Come, darling,
let's keep our minds calm
visiting nearby places of solitude.
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