and gives us hope
eternity mocks us
and makes us dream up more joys and pains and sorrows and wars
eternity mocks us
and makes us hemmorrage from too much
laughter
eternity mocks us
and makes us long for thoughts that will stain and permeate our
bedsheets,
at least until we've had time to write them down.
eternity mocks us
and makes us run like theives from jeweled mornings into shadowy
afternoons and on into the long, crooked night
eternity mocks us
and makes us think we're mere animals with no divinity of our own,
nothing to do but stay put in our windowless skulls waiting around for
NOW to finally catch up while we sit smuggly in warm comas,
churning out more Death
eternity mocks us
and makes us pick bones from our teeth
eternity mocks us
and makes our dreams seem less than real
eternity mocks us
and makes our minds jump up and turn tricks in the morning
long before
we've had any coffee
eternity mocks us
and makes us forget to look both ways
eternity mocks us
and we are born into a deformed and dying Present we
are likely to forget, groped and whittled away by work
and worry
until there's nothing left but a fondness for flowers-
(especially the kinky, leafless variety
of overnight stays in foreign hotels
with various names and addresses
pinned to our sexes
and sometimes they left us a surprise in the morning
of something terminal or incurable)
eternity mocks us
and makes us think we've accomplished something
eternity mocks us
and gives us the impression we never will
And at the end of the day
our toenails keep growing and it would still be a comfort to shave.
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Reviews of "last laugh"
Reviewed by Candy T (Reader)
Reviewed on January 26, 2006
skilled use of irony to draw lines in the sand of existence and make one of the points i so love about real poetry, viz: the great truth... life is difficult.
not to detract from this poem - but the comment below made me think of this...
The "eternity" in the poem refers to nothing more than our amazing proclivity to forget that we are indeed mortal. We have "eternity" embedded in the brain. Every breath we take brings us closer to death and yet we go on with our o'er hasty, hairbrained existences insisting that this moment (this one RIGHT NOW) will not be our last.
Oh, and it's sort of a joke. Careful we don't start taking ourselves too seriously.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on January 25, 2006
Mock on, eternity, is my mantra. Maybe we (I) are insignificent among the eons of time past and those eons of time ahead, but if WE think we are sommething special, eternity has nothing whatsoever to do about it, because we ARE special. Eternity mocks? Not at all sure about that, there are those who put hunanities dent in the frameword of eternity. Aesop, et al, never mind Ghandi Martin Luther King and the other Martin Luther plus Shakesphere, Poe, etc. My point is made.
Pray for the light. Pray that you last that long. The Long Hour Before Light is a classic collection of Horror tales, re-mastered by Champagne Book Group
not to detract from this poem - but the comment below made me think of this...
do you know why angels can fly?
because they take themselves so lightly.
Oh, and it's sort of a joke. Careful we don't start taking ourselves too seriously.