Manic Moments

…and some days
we stand up
topple the furnishings
of corporate order
decry politics
and etiquettes
and rage,
rage,
inner light
exploding
in a shattering
ball of fire
blinding
purifying
setting souls free
setting us free

…and then
it’s over –
in a blink
and our desk mate
still sleeps the slumber of automaton
clicks a mouse in rhythm with photocopier

we sigh
and re-conform.

 

 

 

 

Rebellion Incited

Listen up!
My words, like children,
need tending to, codling

I can’t just go all willy nilly and let them run amuck

although

they are liking the idea

and what’s that knocking at my door
strange ideas….

oh, this will never do –
I keep a tight ship here –
order and perfection
those are my mottos

the children are getting out of hand
best banish them to the basement
until they calm down, but wait…

there’s sawdust
and garbage down here
(how could I have been so reckless)

Really, I wasn’t expecting all this commotion

and there’s the door again –
Oh dear!  Just as I feared –
the church ladies are here
and any moment they’ll
start sermonizing
and I’ll feel guilty
for having
let the children
loose
for
having
entertained
imperfect thoughts
for…

What the hell!

I’m an artist not a babysitter!  Why am I worrying about judgment from a bunch of prudish old ideas about how poetry should be executed?  I’m in charge here, right?

Children, gather round
I’ve got some tidbits –
snack-sized morsels of ideas
for us to nibble on –

we need to start a rebellion.

 

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(Today’s challenge is to rebel.)