Poem: The Lives of Men

 

The lives of men are silly still

Calmly bounding up a hill

What arrows edge can blur this glory

How can one thousand weasels tell one story?

 

Were not my breast to heave in struggle

My grandest choice to live and wish

She cannot fathom the depths of taking

Her only breath is still a gift.

So march on and mysteriously unravel

The packages of days gone like dust in tornado's wake

It’s not enough to feel your feelings

But feel them still, for feelings sake.

 

The broad brush of indiscriminate whining

The Fantastic gasp of endless, torturous explosion of life

A big bang not suitable for upper crust taste

So we’ll revel in something far less ugly

 

Count on me only as you take yourself for granted

I am prince and angel and whisperer of dark messages

 

I come from a land that cannot be spelled

It’s letter half-shaped by the devil’s cramped hand

I have risen from mountain-sides that shine reflected light

Out of the petunia gardens and into the crystalline sea

 

I am a cobra, you are my dance partner in this endless

Traitorous tango of troublesome desires.

How can you wish for something that will make you cringe?

 

So alas the sky sucks you up into it’s murky clouds and terrible sun

 

The gusts of wind are not gusts at all but spiders sucking life out of inborn needs

 

So dance on, sweet spiders, and feed at the buffet of nonsense. Know that your

Wantings have gone unnoticed. Know that your stories will go untold.


Know that your massive eyeballs will shrink oneday when your ancestors

Ask themselves who spawned their evil flesh.

 

So It is with excellent preoccupation that I wonder how a people so cold

And so warm and so hideously beautiful could aspire to create a universe devoid

Of compassion and dwelling in empathy.

 

To the ships they gathered like flies ‘round a lamp, only to lose their way.

One after ‘nother steps too close to the shine, enamored of luminous spray.

More by this Author


Comments 2 comments

Nellieanna profile image

Nellieanna 6 years ago from TEXAS

It's good. On my fan comment to you I said I like your unique perspective and you said on your fan comment to me "what perspective is that?" I don't believe we've ever resolved it. But that's ok. Of this entire poem - this stanza really stands out to me. It's poetry:

So march on and mysteriously unravel

The packages of days gone like dust in tornados wake

It’s not enough to feel your feelings

But feel them still, for feelings sake.


AdamGee profile image

AdamGee 6 years ago Author

Thanks, Nellieanna :) I know I can always count on you for positive or insightful feedback, and I really appreciate it! As for my perspective, I'm still working on it, figuring out who I am.. My hope is, on my last day, I'll be able to say, "oh, so that's who I was!" Among other hopes, of course.

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    working