the drench of decades
we’ve slogged
we the seasoned ones
dunked our sweet-and-sour dreams
in swampy soup designs
soused and self-indulgent cooks
stir and serve dollops
dispensed from on high
their tastes dilute our broth
but serve as balm
to we the hungry
now we live to eat
where once we ate and lived and thought
we buy
insatiable consumption
feeds but doesn’t satisfy
we bob like bloated corpse on murky sea
not caring – except what makes the biggest splash
not seeing - we’re shallow
and our mud puddle isn’t deep
as my v good friend a doctor says we eat more rubbish & live longer
indeed the vocabulary lost from old recipes for the days forked tongue
is estimable & it seems depreciating that age should creep in there to rear its head, tho it does indeed & we are right to demur. robin
Wow!
"we the seasoned ones
dunked our sweet-and-sour dreams
in swampy soup designs"
A very depressing thought -- angry perhaps, but have you ever put your finger right on it. Where is the spirit? Where is the value we place on ourselves, our lives. Gosh! I could write pages, and pages on this Stunning conclusion!
The gifted and fascinating Urban Poet, Asa D Seeley, once again speaks. He introduces a New Genre of Poetry...Reality Confrontation. Juxtaposed with Essay and staying true to his unique style, Asa brings a breath of...fresh air...to the world of poet
South Baltimore serves as the backdrop for this gripping story of three brothers leading very different lives but joined forever by the secrets of a painful family past.
Deputy Dave Jenkins investigates the murder of local high school principal, Jerry Egge, but this is a multi-faceted novel that deals with spiritualism, romance, friendship, and children who fall through the cracks.
"Murder isn't usually this
Share
Print
Save
Follow
indeed the vocabulary lost from old recipes for the days forked tongue
is estimable & it seems depreciating that age should creep in there to rear its head, tho it does indeed & we are right to demur. robin
and our mud puddle isn’t deep < < < powerful image ...
excellent analogy ...
Still a superb poem! (I'd miss you too;-)
"we the seasoned ones
dunked our sweet-and-sour dreams
in swampy soup designs"
A very depressing thought -- angry perhaps, but have you ever put your finger right on it. Where is the spirit? Where is the value we place on ourselves, our lives. Gosh! I could write pages, and pages on this Stunning conclusion!
Carmen :-)