A life that is simultaneously
The best and worst of times
Knee deep in lies
Send out the spies
There’s much from you I hide.
The smiling face of pleasantry
Obscures the doubt and fear
The beads of sweat along a face
Drown out the joyful cheers
Yet even so, both good and bad
Are at extremes almost every day
Such joy I hide
While fear subside
For soon, no need to lie.
Part-poem, part-daily prompt, part-message to my best friend (now in a faraway land).
—
While I seek to not offend them all
Taiwan is quite a far ways off
So even while some may scoff
To you, my friend, at least I’ll call.
The “far off land” is not a jest
For you’ve been gone since what, July?
And even as I did really try
I could not stop you, my friend whose best.
So barring customs at the gate
What I’ll give you are special things
Those trinkets from which memory brings
And restores the days long past and great.
A bottle of whiskey, bottom shelf
Evan Williams, Ezra Brooks
Just ignore the judging looks
For now we toast to you yourself.
The completed works of ol’ Nietzsche
You are today’s Diogenes
I’ll argue back, though not with ease
For both us are so preachy.
A set of chess for you play
Win or lose it mattered not
For with my friend I can be taught
That there is more than just who wins the day.
Walking shoes to tread throughout
For nights on which we used to stroll
Yet ever we were on a roll
Today I’m here with you without.
A thought to plant into foreign land
And drafts to fix and words revise
For I truly only trust your eyes
To make me better, friendship grand.
On the Winning Streak:
The flow of one’s mind
It was going in kind
But then as it happened
On the blog, fell behind.
One month, more or less
On this blog, I’d express
But then as it happened
Life came on as a stress.
What did I then see
From the blogging, daily
But then as it happened
My rhyme, floated free.
Another hour is given
Now I have so much time
To do that things I’ve wanted to do
And now with this hour
With these new sixty minutes
All my dreams, they will come true.
What to do first
To sleep, eat or write
To see friends I have long since ignored
So much time is mine
And so much to be done
At the end there’s no way to be bored.
My mind filling up
With possibilities
Of the places and people I’ll see
And it’s all because now
Out of sheer happenstance
That I’m given an hour for free.
Turn left down the street
Or right to the train
For both, here and now I can’t choose
But the longer I linger
That I second-guess both
The more likely, all this time I’ll abuse.
And what if I’m wrong
And this hour is wasted
On actions or people unwise
Then even my efforts
To maximize time
Have become nothing more than just tries.
So this hour I’m given
As a friendly gesture
I’ll give it back, sorry to be unkind
For with even more time
To ponder one’s failing
Is more time being wasted in my mind.
A million minds, a dozen, a few.
It matters not how many come to speak.
What matters much more to the conversation
Is the knowledge shown by those who are meek.
For even if you have an audience full
Of people who are listening and eager
Without one engaging, the event is all dull
You’ll leave conversations with insights that are meager.
The Lark's Roost 