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Francis Crasto Poem
From the deep dark corners of my brain I strain to bring to the surface
the answers I've locked deep, so deep within...Like the matter inside lava in a volcano..my brain, OH !..It hurts, it hurts to dig deep.
I can't seem to reach deep enough for this stuff called wisdom to answer these tough questions I've faced, interlaced in the place where my brain is in this head that sits upon my shoulders.
There it sits like it serves the sole purpose of housing this delicate machine they call brain. Mine is filled with wisdom, but like a deserted kingdom that seems so desolate until it's needed. Then it comes to life like the city lights on a friday night. Flashing, flickering...what does it all mean, my eyes are burning the cogs are turning in this machine, questions are firing from the canons of life, the sounds are threatening my very wellbeing ! These questions need to be answered, to leave ignored is just not an option...they need to be sorted, sorted in order, there's too many questions awaiting an answer.. So I dig deep to search for that wisdom, don't let me down right now I need you, don't let me drown or I have to ask what is your purpose..Why do you sit there laying dormant while I am in torment !
I can't take anymore questions so I dig deep to awaken that wisdom, I need you right now to take care of these questions, that line up for answering - line up for battle. Ready to fight, they don't like wisdom- Wisdoms too dominant, like a warrior ready for war...A war in my brain, the hurt the strain.. I pay the price heavily for each one of these battles, when questions are resilient and don't want to be answered, combined with wisdom that won't take no for an answer. The battle is fierce, questions are running for cover, hiding in every corner and crevice- an annoying menace, that needs to be dealt with and brought tumbling down.. Wisdoms too staunch and won't back down.
The battle is bloody and takes a heavy toll, the rebellious questions heads begin to roll..out ooze the answers they've been guarding so tightly , not giving up lightly..but there they lay exposed and ready to be absorbed into the recesses of my brain...Wisdom wins out again !
Copyright © Francis Crasto | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Francis Crasto Poem
Off to Mother's for a lavish lunch
I scoffed at others having brunch
I arrived a little early so let myself in
The lively old girl was repenting for sin
I sat in wait for this wonderful feed
Then heard the gate, it was her indeed
We laughed and talked, but time was tickin'
With her scarf, she walked off to the kitchen
I anxiously awaited a three course meal
What has she just plated... I can hardly deal
Perhaps a roast for all the presents I've bought her
I deserved the most since I'm the son, not the daughter
But all I got was Toast, Mince and One Glass of Water !!!
Copyright © Francis Crasto | Year Posted 2018
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