Just For Fun

Ode to the Envelope

Vanilla manila with
glue on its flap;
filled to the folds
with loads of crap.

Crisp and clean
a cellophane window;
listings of charges
from those that I owe.

White and bright with
rectangular shape;
penmanship in ink
scrawled like a landscape.

Each once moistened with
vapor or lick.
Stamped by machine
or with one that will stick.

No matter the type with
which it is intended.
Each ripped to shreds
its short life soon ended.

Reminder

Cost

Caught up with stuff,
controlling our lives
efforts to obtain more
becoming a bore.

Time spent
nothing really purchased.
Piles from the store gather
dust and rust.

Time to pay the bills,
get more stuff.
Time becoming expensive
for unnecessary fluff.

The only true commodity
being spent on superficiality,
desperately avoiding mass
commonality; but failing.

Selling your time
to breathe and relax.
For symbols and leather
and paltry knickknacks.

Costly this oversight,
this tangible error,
though gems are rare,
your time is rarer.

Keep the diamonds, keep the gold
I give up this pursuit,
it’s making me old.

A Quickie

Purpose

Another day passes
Laugh, cry, sleep.

Tomorrow starts fresh
Wake, laugh, weep.

Episodic life
Cumulative plot
Gelatin flesh
Eventual rot.

Cliffhanger conclusion
Spirit set free.

Discover joy
And the purpose of me.

Another from NON-Sense

NONSense #3

Precradle the family of richonington heights
so blinded by fubonious rhythms.
Choose to ignore and jugilitae fear.
Erase the obvious and insert yilliot grack.
Waste another vratoli on superficial prios
chase the horizon and land with rimolant friends
who never show honicle in front of nanolites.

A Small One

No Sense

The light of the moon, and the darkness.
The heat from the sun, and the lack of it.
The sound of the rain, and the quiet it creates.
The taste of cool water, and the blandness.
The scent of lonliness, and the pungency.
The touch from those hands, and the obsession.

Some Serious Nonsense from Noplace

NONSense #4

Deep red logothos of preclaton grine
Swim in the yelpernacks hibantial quine.
Kreatol, hobonotist, and welingrope fear
the sadinotist balock with opio tranear.
Frantilio flee and Ropinical nack
I weep for the hopiniton frally drak.
Revenge!
Is the course that the ipily takes.
How clear it becomes to ernikel a nacke!

How about a poem?

River and Jar

I asked him to leave.
The reasons were there.
No argument.
No rebuttal.

It’s the right thing.
The best thing.
This I know.

Yet it’s lonely here with subsided anger.
Emptiness and non-emotion remain.

A stagnant pond.

Unaffected by the river, as
Life continues to flow by.

It’s not exactly sadness that has engulfed me,
but rather an enormous jar has been placed over me.
Sounds are muffled, space is confined, the air is thick and sparse.

I can’t lift the jar away.
I try, but can only push it along.
It takes great effort.
How long?

The pushing makes me tired.
So I sleep alot.
When I wake the jar is still there.

Just as change placed it over me, only change can remove it.
I pray for change to take hold of my hand.

Lead me back to the river and the cool breeze.