Yesterday, we sat and watched
A sitcom on TV
From early in the 70’s,
But what was strange to me
Was hearing Archie Bunker’s rants
About the U.S.A.
And things that he was saying
Echoed words I hear today.
He argued with his son-in-law
About the government,
Defending Richard Nixon
To his daughter’s discontent.
That show reflects some current themes
But somehow in the past,
It made us laugh; those same thoughts
Uttered now leave us aghast.
Look at the way they cheer
The way they rant and geer
All that desire to learn and
they leared
I see a chance to venture on
paths unknown to me
I feel it's my plight in life
to seize a moment i need to be
For only a moment i might feel
the light of glee
Edited my life story it seems
less in reality
and more in my dreams
Vintage in thoughts
Reemed with rot
I am though i aught
to care or to not
Dwindle in my capacity
i ask of thee to flee
from mental gratuity
And hope the majority
can catch up with the moral reality
If Pearl misbehaves
throws fits, rants and raves
What of the parents who raise her
If Johnny can’t read
or do simple math
What of his teachers who instruct him
If Darryl kills a man at age 14
After robbing him blind
What of the system which releases him too soon
Where’s there no supervision or accountability, little teaching, less review
the quality products turned out number between zero and a few
How much has to be experienced, for any of us to actually see?
Must we be blinded by illusion, or a veil of secrecy?
Can we only listen carefully, and survive this remedy?
Or do we need more senses to concur with, that can agree?
Maybe this kind of corroboration, is just wasted redundancy?
Or has the environment become so clouded, to verify any reality?
Should we just rely on obtuse faith, without the material
observationally?
Seems to me that the truth can survive, the multiple anomalies.
Militate on one another with great passion
the nonperson,
The fusty one.
Nothing fancy, delightful or bonvivant
Having a genteel attitude, but impassible
Vagabond. Loner. Prodigious.
Yet no blandishment.
Complicated as a merman
Porous because of mutilation
The obsequy closed with an
Elegy
Rigmarole. Rigmarole.
Not the booby hatch which
hosts may
The railroad tied on knots.
Big as an intrusive blunt forced
object
The copulation of blood and oxygen
Wins over the slightly manipulated mind.
From inside, out
Hapless haploids creating the uselessness of existence
Making, permanently each place
devoured
Feeling the blades and molar impressions piercing through each layer.
I used to walk the playground during recess
Listening to the laughter
And saw the stars twinkled and glowed in their faces.
Running, jumping, climbing, swinging,
And sliding in the rain,
Wind, snow, and sunshine.
Always made my day cheerful and bright.
However,
There was much more going on, than just fun.
Some would have bad days,
Putting a smile was my job;
It would go a long way,
Hoping it was there
Until the end of the day.
Some
Accepted silence,
Others conversation.
Arguments and rants would start.
One didn't need to anticipate their behavior.
They always came as a ray of sunshine.
They knew when one cared,
They'd come around with trust and no fear.
Teaching them to settle disputes
By talking or just turning and walking away.
12/9/2019
Poetry Contest: If You Live by The Sword Then You Die by The Sword; 10 lines
Sponsored By: Silent One
Twitter "shadow banning"
Latest flame fanning
opinionated
sop box
rants
not really
dealing with
a specific
situation
instead
venting
over
past
hurts
never
truly
moving
past any
issue that
plagued the
scarred soul
AS THIS PLANT RANTS
I am but a rose that froze
Despite the hunger of August's heat
And each evening my hatred grows
Since your beauty claimed my defeat
I am but a wilted willow worn
My leaves like tears fallen to the ground
As I curse the day when you were born
And I am a fool your selfishness found
I am but an oak that broke
Each branch snapped by your decree
You were the winter who speciously spoke
And now I am but a dry and dying tree
No water can replenish what you stole
My trunk cannot be strengthened by the richest soil
I once stood straight as any pole
Until you found this fool to be your foil
© 2012 (c) PHREEPOETREE.....~free cee!~
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