Errant Demise

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Yes, this one is soooo ... existential. haha

Errant Demise

1.  People that know me

had grown to despise me

flies lit upon my face

the air was stale

I was stale

and yet

 

I chose to revel in it

I figured

there was nothing one could do

to change his fate

but at least

I could treat scorn with scorn

 

I knew they scorned me

It was obvious from their blank expressions

I didn’t pretend to know everything

but some things you could just sense

 

Now my situation is not that difficult really

That is what people always say

ignorant people actually

for we are all marvelously complex

 

And it is to that complexity that I say

I may be aberrant

but at least I have not lost my personality

 

But please

don’t misinterpret these feeble words

I am not making a political statement

regarding the banality

that creeps into our lives

 

Or as to its source or causes

or even as to its implications

far be it from me to say

 

2.  They all wear masks

the hallways are like aisles in a clothing store

the foyer resembles a grand ball

the count and countess

are disguised as peasants

 

And the feeble and disinherited

dress up as kings

looking around I realized

the stupendous irony of it all

Everyone is wearing two sets of masks

the second set being the ones

they don’t take off at night

I was so wise

 

3.  I knew there were fleas

jumpers that’s what they are

lively critters little acrobats

They bred on the animals we tamed

and brought into our homes

 

I had never seen them actually

they hid away in the carpeting and upholstery

for no purpose except to breed

all part of the harmony monotony

 

Whichever way you will have it

whatever suits a man is what I say

Our affairs don’t bear closer scrutiny

that is where madness begins

 

I won’t go spiraling off

the way some do

I’ll  be contented with my lot

 

4.  The windows were smudged and covered with film

One day I carved a large round spot

in the pane to see out

And the next day I didn’t care

One’s opinions were one’s own

and best kept put with minor exceptions

 

I was fidgety and my head itched

I lay down and stared at the stain

in the ceiling

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

usaforklift’s Poems (16)

Title Comments
Title Comments
The Night 0
Errant Demise 0
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Unless 2
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How did You Know? 0
Dancing on a Day Moon 1
the Conversations 1
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How Day is Done 0
Secret (the) 0
And you Think you Know What Politics is 0
Stand on the Rock 0
Mosquito 0
Every Ounce Counts 0
Breath of Sea 1