Man, what a modern Ice Age:
Another chapter we’ve turned
W/ nothing writ on the next page,
Nothing yet we’ve learned
When Truth’s hardly discerned
W/ so many wannabe Buddhas
Runnin’ ‘round the stage.
Are you the promissory poet
W/ words of terror to wage?
After all, someone’s gotta remind
Us Destiny we shan’t find
Obsolete like machines to the rage -
Better days to ne’er come
Whilst too busy being a bum -
What an age of doldrums…
The old are gettin’ older
And the young younger,
Yet the strangest of conundrums
Is feelin’ stuck in-between,
Gobsmacked at at a past vast
Of missed opportunity
And a future nowhere to be seen.
Wake up!
Sometimes you just gotta run
Blind, like a child of the Sun
& lose your mind, mad as a hatter
Worrying not what’s the matter!
Unwind, screamin’ and shoutin’,
No time for poutin’;
Haphazardly groping Life here ‘n’ there,
Always one step ahead of disaster by a hair…
We gotta get out of here!
Follow Fate, the taste
Inevitably thy heart’s chosen,
Either wallowin’ a waste
Decrepit and frozen,
Or rise!!! Arise, goddamnit,
Like the muses, musicians,
& astronomers
of old
Who’d laugh at demise
And beam bright & bold!
Two/four/sevenfold,
For the bones of ambition
We must remold…
What a mouthful…