Saturday, May 3, 2014

drift 1c (part three of the poetic journey)


(part three of the free form poetic journey that is tha' drift, by the pontificator at large, known as b2)
drift 1c
Eloquent Mind Shaft
this will not be what you want to hear
no, that is not my intention
chances are fulfillment will soon be yours
regardless of naming convention

living up to the reputation
getting down to the commiseration
a wish you wish you hadn't wished
yes, luck can be quite arbitrary
knowing now that they still know nothing
not okay with it, yet really not caring

living up to the reputation
getting down to the commiseration

it wasn't all that it is cracked up to be
why, this is nothing like the pictures showed
creating myths and jading the unrepentant youth
naked we stay while our egos remained well clothed

living up to the reputation
getting down to the commiseration

-b2



drift 1b

Absent Minded Rapture

the ebb, the flow, and the do-si-do
feel it grow, keep it slow, don't you know
everybody wants a co-conspirator, everyone needs a friend

keep it up, slide it back, to-and-fro
this is how it's gonna be, don't you know
tow the line every time, give 'em hell, always have a story to tell

knock it back, pick up the slack, ready-set-go
don't hold back, now's the time, don't you know
I don't have all the answers, we've all got questions, keep-it-simple

you got it going on, on and on, hit me with it one time
know your opponent, have a plan, please tell me that you know
we're in this together, I won't let you down, just follow me down this primrose path

-b2


drift 1a

Squalor of Forgiveness

succumbing to the letters
 that boredom never wrote
shedding off the layers
of morning's early coat

ne'er did she read them 
ne'er did she lie
among the shadows of a life
lived beyond the yellow sky

feeling so much vigor
running from the pain
the ever present sunshine
the never ending rain

it wasn't what they told you
it's never what you read
I'll take back all the ribbons
knuckles, shackles, beads

underneath the hedge row
deep below the tears
we buried all the memories
and pissed away the years

the road has been paved over
the gravel will still lead
you'll find me by the meadow
eating junipers and seed

forgive them of their shadows
release them from all tenure
deny the grateful mercy 
release the comfort censure

the old ways were forgotten
the new plan has gone foul
if only they had spoken
and removed the ghostly cowl

succumbing to the letters
 that boredom never wrote
shedding off the layers
of the morning's early coat  

-b2