Poetry

November 18, 2018

 

Chrysalis

 

Is it so strange

To believe in

An afterlife?

That something greater

Awaits us?

Take the butterfly

An egg

Caterpillar = Man

Growth = Death

Chrysalis

Butterfly

A cocoon

A stage to be completed

Before being granted wings

Sure, the butterfly will die

But I am sure something awaits us

In this cycle of life

 

 

Eight Dollars

 

I had only eight dollars left.

I could have save it for a rainy day,

But it would have remained eight dollars.

I could have bought a stiff drink

That would have warmed

My belly and relaxed my back,

But it would have turned to urine.

I could have dropped it

In the church collection box,

Giving it to God

And left feeling just a little

Better about myself,

But feelings fade.

So I went to the bookstore

And found something to stretch

My imagination.

A world opened up to me,

A vast expanse of understanding.

For only eight dollars

The author gave me something priceless.

 

 

Bowing Backwards

 

To all you

Hucksters and tricksters

Hypnotists and magicians

Corporations and conglomerations

To all whom this may concern

Congratulations

I always have believed

In giving credit

Where credit is due

My hat goes off to you

It really is quite the illusion

To get us to buy in

To allow you to construct

A pyramid placing us

So neatly, so tightly

Packed at the bottom

Every one in order

30 or more years

Is a hell of thing to trade

For a mere promise

There are only so many

Seconds in my life

And I’ll be damned

If I’ll ever sign over

A single one to you

To support your gluttonous appetite

I’d much rather spend a year here

And a year there

Doing my menial tasks

Saving what little I can

To do the things I want to do

To have the adventures I want to have

To dream the things I want to dream

But I have always believed

In giving credit

Where credit is due

So once more

My hat goes off to all of you

On so many tethers

Tied to so many anchors

Sure, with some careful planning

They might have the money

But after so many years

Of supporting your piggish weight

Will they have the will?

Or like the ore

Will you have crushed that too?

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