Son of Ranom (W) Rites July 15, 2o13

Monday,
   I've been saving this for a few days because of current events which have moved me to write some poems that needed to be posted while they were still relevant. In fact, one of them, Verdict, is included in this "collage" of thought... the third in a series of random thoughts.

Son of Random (W) Rites

 

1

My morning hair is standing on end
I must have dreamed something terrible
or something so wonderful my follicles
needed to dance

 

2

Don't argue with a sandwich

and then complain,
"I just ate something
that didn't agree with me"

 

3

I was going to think
about apathy today
but why bother

 

4

the evening shadows fall
like maple syrup
dripping hot buttered thoughts
on pancake dreams

 

5

Hope is a thing sitting in the book case
I'm always tempted to flip through its pages
listen to that wonderful gibberish
only paper understands

 

6

I was counting on you

saving long division
for my smarter friends

 

7

this is how we are
feet walking
hands busy doing something
mind wondering farther
than the other limbs
could ever imagine
the lungs breathing
heart spitting blood
throughout the system
consciousness waits
patiently for me
to run myself six feet
into the ground

 

8

There are some things
beyond our control
science calls it life

 

9

I caught my shoes
sneaking out the front door.
It was three in the morning.
What were my shoes up to?
Going for a walk
but where? Why?
Why?! What, am I in Russia?

10
I cried evening
and got morning
I laughed noon
it turned to night
when it rains
I receive sunlight
once an ocean
the desert now stands
as alone as me

 

11 Verdict

America stood in the corner

 hands in pockets looking up
at her own image wondering
where her smile had gone.
Sold, bought out. Sent back
to her room to think about
the mistakes, the promises
she made to all of us
who once worshipped her.
Will we ever see her face again?
—rrw o7-14-13