Sunday, August 21, 2005

nice hat teardrop

he is trusting the shadow
that it will not hold him back
so natural bright will burn
lazy sleep that will make
shadow itself incandesce
and expel him from its
womb of death which plays
toy like with the brighter
dream and lures him down
like a beaten man into
numbness

the sleep that comes to weary
souls even they are only
weary of their own uselessness
and comforted they sleep through
workless days and nights
or become so busy with
dangerous doings of no
meaning that swallow all time
and effort which they talk
endlessly, complaining about their
troubles and hardships which
they have done to themselves
or possible chance that they
might be done harm or that it
could happen to someone they
say they know

gobbling time with wasted
breath which was sour from
within and possibly just
needed to escape they grapple
for control or to try and
trouble others for they
think this gives satisfaction
without the trouble of
meaning to lives
wasted on useless pride
which giving opportunity
draws no benefit which it
only could if they ever saw
something besides their small
and useless selves

and knew a larger picture in which
the train arrives and people
move about doing something
or nothing and somewhere somehow
there is a word to add that makes
it light or draws a picture hat better
than the one they are wearing or
could ever buy or dream of
in little lives that try for the
nothing they achieve

but to try is tiring and
the question is always there
burning like a black hole in empty
being the same empty he is trying to fill
but to stop trying is to
fall in line and fall asleep
doing that joyless dance at the
Zombie jamboree
and therefore not to try is
to loose all hope of any joy

2 comments:

angel-A said...

dear Russell, it's wonderful! looks like summer is a season of poems for you...

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks my Angel! I hope you have found them valuable and enjoyable! Looks like summer has been being a wonderful camera experience for you!