Archive for the ‘Musellaneous’ Category

Whose Dirt This Is…

A speck of dust upon a hat
some dung beneath the strollers shoe
The smoke that pours from burning fat
Should give us now, a wayward clue
And teach us now, without adieu,
Although it wont amount to much,
Of Sysiphus and brooms and such.

Empty Standing

I stand I think corrected
On things I’ll never know
I see the world a-kilter
By lights that barely glow
The love we share together
Is savaged by our fears
I pay for all this wonder
With the passing of my years

Soulin’

Soulin’

 

A distant gladness without despair’s reproof

Alight with joy abiding in its space

Sips at wine begat from grapes of promise

That neither sour nor tempers flair abase

 

So moves our core of love in temperate solace

Out of the self-full angst of dread and loss

To wean the sublunary geist of maudlin office

And lift that turgid heart above its dross

Give me liberty or give me stealth!

Here The Truth Lies and The Wind Approves

Now this is where the truth does lie
the wind in staunch aplomb
Imparts a coy imprimatur
within its whispering psalm

Besieged amid our trampled souls
In sentient pall immersed
Passions, stalled and pleasures damped
While clowns play as rehearsed

We come to heel as right men when
compassion’s measure wanes
For all our strength and power can’t hold
Against obdurate banes

An interregnum if you will
With sense’s king deposed
Tomorrow not yet coronate
Our joy for now foreclosed

Oh bear off gloomy fecklessness
And make our dreams be bright
The days wait long for nights eclipse
Its insolent sway in flight

Clowns can’t sing the songs of men
And keep their shadows bold
While all the doom songs dissipate
And fear itself grows old

Attack, attack the livid root
The very soul of men
The sensitized nerve plexi shriek
It is beyond their ken

If souls grow old and hearts be young
And nature does its best
To bear us up into the night
On loves endearing crest

One understands as most who come
To these imperfect shoals
That joy is in the traveled path
And not imagined goals

© 2017 What's That On the Road – A Head
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