Anxiety consumes.
IT eats
And IT eats
devouring,
until the only substance left is drool.
A drool so cold and numb,
one could say IT hurts.
IT dribbles down the brain
looking at memories,
looking at moments,
ripping them and moving to the next.
IT leaves IT'S exhausting trail while going back to IT'S hiding place.
In the back of the mind IT sits, getting hungry. The anguish is almost addicting.
One more thought circles back and once again anxiety pounces,
always hungry,
always empty,
never satisfied.
slab of smokey concrete sky
swirls like swarms of ashen hands
reaching away from skeletal grief
someone's suppressed tears dissolved
~another's anguish ignited
Noise
Noise is not anger.
Noise is not aggression.
Not like my father shouting
My sister crying and my mother.
Moaning and me begging
For the noise to stop
The rows to subside.
For peace to reign.
Noise can be satisfying.
Like a Ferrari exhaust.
A plane roaring down the runway
Best of all passion
And the purr of the cat.
Yet noise still affects me
A cold shower that shakes
A churn of the stomach
Noise. Be quiet!
Silence is golden,
David Cox 13/03/24
E-bikes, E-scooters, E-cars
Darting through the streets
Even E-mountain bikes
To take you to the peaks.
One problem with this E-solution
Is the amount of E-pollution
as we plug them in at night
drawing power, out of sight.
Unlike the runner or the cyclist
powered by plant-based fuels
shortsightedly we lobby for
these battery powered tools.
It seems these “green” solutions
all contain a power curse
for it seems to me their “green-ness”
is fueled by something worse.
They grasp the reins with steely fingers
in a “gentle” show of force
for the basis of their movement is
“keep the blinders on the horse”
John G. Lawless
©4/3/2022
last box
smallest box to go
all things now moved
in silence to the car
awaiting those
who take such things away
take these things and with them
please, the memories
for they are gone forever
gone away
and I am gone
into some place
between my life
and dying
no longer here, but not with them
In-between my life and death
inside each box that's left
inside a car with motor running
in an empty garage
The sillies are popping up thick and fast
Hard to keep up, my archives are vast
My eyes are crossed
From my bum there's exhaust
Really kinda worried bout a nuclear blast
The sillies are popping up thick and fast
Hard to keep up, my archives are vast
My eyes are crossed
From my bum there's exhaust
Really kinda worried bout a nuclear blast
My limbs grow weak from the weight I carry.
The grave is deep and I’m feeling buried.
I try my best to raise my head.
Body already feeling dead.
I do what I can to make it through.
Never giving up is what I will do.
Exhaust hits hard like a freight train.
Better yet like a bullet to the brain.
Exhaust
Jet's etch a sketch
'Pon a clear horizon
White elongated clouds eye shaped
Exhaust
Just watch your sneezing with a dual exhaust,
kitty litter holds the wet remorse,
Hay fever can be a pain in the rear,
Remember the kitty litter dear,
And stay in the tray of course.
My brain gauge is on E.
My mind's running on fumes.
Just when I want to be free,
My feet are starting to root.
My spirit's racing a mile a minute
Endless miles, this road's infinite
Tell me when did I begin it?
I really hate this commute.
Maybe, today's the day.
I'll fuel my fire and get away,
Won't let myself decay,
But I would if I'd stay.
I'm always restless all the night through,
My dreams won't come, I've no relief,
'Cause every where I turn I find you,
It's time we both turn a new leaf.
And one last stop for gasoline,
Pay to a washed up beauty queen,
A dollar in the Coke machine,
Wave goodbye in disbelief.
Maybe, today's the day.
I'll fuel my fire and get away,
Won't let myself decay,
But I would if I'd stay.
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
So tired was I that the book slipped and fell then
Stirring in my dreams was visions of chimney's exhaust
The chimney's sparks did fly even though cut off
As in the poem that he wrote " The Kitchen Chimney"
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
A tale he told of " The Willy-Nilly Slide" which he embossed
With Brown carrying the lantern by his side, so
Stirring in my dreams was visions of chimney's exhaust
In the poem "Evening In A Sugar Orchard" where sparks up chimney glossed
Over the brilliance of the distance stars, as I
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
In his poem "Love And A Question" about the bride by the fire engrossed
And of the "Old Man's Winter Night" as the log fell in the stove brought to
Stirring in my dreams was visions of chimney's exhaust
From the fire that once burned in the hearth
And now to sleep it seems to have gone
Went to sleep last night reading poems by Robert Frost
Stirring in my dreams was visions of the chimney's exhaust
(Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets so this is about him.)
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