The Things I don't Know

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  • Life

    The Things I don't Know

     They walk down the street,
    With the ease of a cat.
    Some humming a lilt,
    Some adjusting their hat.

    With a bounce to their step,
    And an aim to their stride.
    There's no way of telling,
    What their trying to hide.

    It may be good fortune,
    It may be a mess.
    But the best I can do,
    Is just sit here and quess.

    So I'll look and I'll gaze,
    At their non-chalant stroll.
    And continue to mull,
    On the things I don't know.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    fellbomber’s Poems (25)

    Title Comments Submitted
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    Sober Machine 0 06/23/2021
    No Keys 0 06/21/2021
    8 By 10 0 06/19/2021
    Under Construction 0 06/19/2021
    Empty Spaces 0 06/18/2021
    After The Fire 0 06/10/2021
    Hurry Up And Wait (Lines) 0 06/08/2021
    Once In A While 0 06/06/2021
    The Hoarder 0 06/06/2021
    The Things I don't Know 0 05/07/2013
    Wounded Legs 1 04/29/2013
    The Plug In The Jug 1 04/05/2013
    Chat Me Up 0 10/30/2012
    I Wanted To Be 2 10/04/2012
    A Fine Cigar 0 05/31/2012
    I hate doin, what I hate doin 0 03/27/2012
    Staying Away 0 01/26/2009
    The Spiders Web 1 01/12/2009
    The Shadow of His Wings 3 12/12/2008
    Orange 0 12/10/2008
    katrina 1 11/26/2008
    Chapters 0 11/26/2008
    Where is it? 1 11/26/2008
    moisture 1 11/26/2008
    Leaving Nadir 0 11/26/2008
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