Seems like someones always on fire in NYC,
Seems someones always dyin in NYC.
Firetrucks always screamin, sirens wail day in, night out,
From your perch, they rush by, echoes chasin down the block.
After a while, sounds and attention numb,
They fade into the rhythm's pace.
You just don’t hear anymore.
Just don't care,
You forget.
So long as it’s just not you.
Until the harsh city reminds you,
Heads Up…
you’re next in the queue!
# 4
The wake-up call woke me,
grabbed the copper vintage rotary
phone, no line. The ringing
continued, where? Hung up the
wall phone in the bathroom.
"The Wake-up Call"
some of us woke up far too late;
we were too concerned
about ourselves
and The Great Escape
Candide Diderot. ‘24
as some sleepers awake , revolutionary songs dominate.
September 19/2023
A distant motorcycle drones
Fading away
“that” dog barks
It must be 8:15
A bus honks
A siren sounds
Jet engines overhead
A quick dream
The furnace kicks in
Breakfast!
Maybe pancakes?
John G. Lawless
©4/8/2023
The early sun rose from behind the hills.
It was a wake-up call for me.
Full of pep, I flew atop the post
One of many that surrounded the hen pen.
I gave my best rendition of a poultry reveille.
My lovely harem came to my call.
Some ruthless spoilt sport hated me.
Was it unreasonable to be wakened up
At such an early morning?
A boot came flying out of the window
Hitting me on my head.
Down I fell onto the hard ground,
Lay still, dizzy with the blow.
My hens ran around clucking, afraid.
Mine was an unyielding demanding
For though old, I did love them all
Now I just lay there deflated
Alas, I was past my prime.
For now, I lost the symbol of my pride!
world out of control
100 ticks to midnight ...
doomsday clock tick tock
there is a gun somewhere
that will make me happy
a permanent vacation is needed
to erase all memories
living is for the strongest
with the most passionate of wills
with one pull of the trigger
much lighter my heart will be
i omit all volume to all those who
disagree
bravery is a rusty chain with a
pungent fluidity
i think i will do it around christmas
for i am heading to hell anyway
then all can ring in the new year
a little less worry free all because
of me
then again, little renee gives me a kiss
on the cheek
she seems to always read my mind, which
is in this case is necessary
she says good morning by saying
'living is the ultimate trip'
i wake up renewed with confidence
and renee a gratitude hug
i go and fix her some eggos with the butter
flavored syrup that she craves
she tells me to not forget the orange juice
because it helps her to concentrate
i laugh at my sweet savior, smile, and shake
my head with delight
for renee is my reason for living and exactly
why breathing is easier in this life
No matter what tiny little rain-drops
we are,
if we come together as a whole
we will absolutely have a great power
to create huge seas of humanity
and we can easily drown,
all around the world,
the atmosphere of enmity
Wake Up Call
Sunny days are so luscious and sweet.
Its pleasing to live at life's slower pace,
but often I miss the bite and the sting,
of Winter's blight blowing wind in my face.
Feelingly persuade me of what I am, *
beyond womb-like comforts and security.
Stabbing thorns, Winter's cold, - small payment
to wake me from my own obscurity.
I must know myself as well as the world,
know the ambition of my soul and hands,
to welcome my life, not cast it aside,
not cower behind dress skirts, tremble and hide.
* Allusion to William Shakespeare's As You Like It
. for public domain
a rooster
unlocks morning's door...
for waking world
Date written: 01/09/2022
A WAKE UP CALL
the sleep
of centuries
trancelike
induced
restlessness
delved the unconscience
ambivalence
a constant interplay
patterning
tranquil hours
inviolate
profiled
in revolutions
throes
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Fingertip of breeze
Plays across my sleeping face
I smell coffee~good.
Image by RalfDesign Pixabay
I realise, well I have known, for some time,
that I am just surviving, not enjoying.
Not living life but rather scraping my knuckles along the floor.
My only goal to make it through the day,
to get from one to the next, bonus if I get an hours rest.
And oh, how I am tired of living this way – but I know no different.
My mask is coming loose – my demons are starting to show.
How long have I kept this excuse of an existence,
carried on despite the agony, through the pain?
I pray God will heal me one day, one day I shall be baptised.
I know, in my heart, it is the only thing that could absolve such self loathing,
pain, guilt, shame, disease – these my daily strife.
But I need to take the first step to heal myself,
be honest – remove the mask – give myself a chance.
'For seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be opened unto you.'
Never have these words rung more true.
05.02.2021
The stomach of the sky is rumblin'
and I fear that I'll be consumed;
the oceans are dying, the earth turns to sand,
and I sense the day of my doom.
If we're going to change this we'd better get started
stop making excuses and cut to the chase;
I fear this movie will have a bad ending
if we don't meet our demons face to face.
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