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(
[sid] => 114186
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => a comedy...
[time] => 2006-02-03 02:23:50
[hometext] => I dont expect much resonse on this..be that as it may...I'm relieved to finally post it...(therapy.. as it were..)
[bodytext] =>
What quite undivine act of comedy
landed us together in this same suit of skin;
welded as one in this ungainly unholy alliance
so often with damn all to say to each other
communication awry in a tangled mess
of jangled nerve endings that never end
transmitting like drunken telephonists
bawling out contradictions in beleaguered defiance
wading through a morass of perennial cross purposes
screaming frenzied morse code signals
when there is no marrow of meaning in the message?
We sing a sad song
of retrogressive nonsense.
What sort of clown is at the helm
of our contradictory realm?
Thrown into this crazy unending waltz
without preamble or introduction
without being asked if we even like one another
we trip each other up at every hazardous step
stumbling over cunningly concealed obstacles
locked in a sweaty unwelcome embrace
in a twist of unaesthetic turbulence
in a murderous shadow game of coexistence.
Rare a time the miracle happens;
freedom bright and brief falls between us
and out of orbit we dance in our seperate spheres
only to collide once more in explosive conjunction
coming as ever too soon upon our old weary reckoning
and we crawl again inside the same hateful habitation
sulking and seething in our mutal loathing.
We sing a song of no hope
an effigy that cannot cope
what mocking hand pulls the string
of our inelegant capering?
NO narrowness and no lean grizzly means
and I sputter like a rusty engine
each hammerstroke taunted
by the tantrums of your absurd cravings-
your flashing prima donna whimsical needs
the gold and grey of your solitude and solstices
groaning you heave yourself over to another day
your hard and long hours sub-contracted
leading on . .to points of no meaning
as you square up to them with tinselled bravado
peering through the faded plumage of your dusty decades
even as I call to you in baffled tenderness and fury in the ceasless fray
you lag forever a million heavy years behind;
still there was a summer . . .
the hot easy contempt of a greener time
stretched at weary length into disgruntled afternoon comprimise
after many a false clarion call of passion and alarm
when the blood bounded between us like a tormented sea
love came for that one and only time which made you eloquent
made you unique and beautiful
unafraid to acknowledge the presence of mirrors in the world
our mutal cells a strange sanctuary . . .
and I wept for the new beginning within us.
Sing a song for hands and feet
and for how the hell our burised hearts beat;
what supreme satist calls the tune
and calls us home from play too soon?
When we have been served the last taste of living
and the Man On High calls for the last time
I hope we can be gentlemen you and I
and quietly take our leave with no hangdog regrets
or lingering back after the hours
when there is nothing left in the bottle but the dregs of yesterday
and we slip into the final folly of the grave
bones and sinew no longer at the beck of random voices
our random passages crawling with industrious worms
and the daft bewildered battery box of a brain
with all it's loose screws and twisted wires brittle like wintry twigs
settle into unfamiliar quietude-
We face another puzzle-
When the crying's over and the tears dry,
who will have the laugh you or I?
WK Copyright 2005
[comments] => 6
[counter] => 248
[topic] => 21
[informant] => Man_On_High
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 16
[ratings] => 6
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => Lifepoems
)
a comedy...
Contributed by
Man_On_High
on
Friday, 3rd February 2006 @ 02:23:50 AM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
What quite undivine act of comedy
landed us together in this same suit of skin;
welded as one in this ungainly unholy alliance
so often with damn all to say to each other
communication awry in a tangled mess
of jangled nerve endings that never end
transmitting like drunken telephonists
bawling out contradictions in beleaguered defiance
wading through a morass of perennial cross purposes
screaming frenzied morse code signals
when there is no marrow of meaning in the message?
We sing a sad song
of retrogressive nonsense.
What sort of clown is at the helm
of our contradictory realm?
Thrown into this crazy unending waltz
without preamble or introduction
without being asked if we even like one another
we trip each other up at every hazardous step
stumbling over cunningly concealed obstacles
locked in a sweaty unwelcome embrace
in a twist of unaesthetic turbulence
in a murderous shadow game of coexistence.
Rare a time the miracle happens;
freedom bright and brief falls between us
and out of orbit we dance in our seperate spheres
only to collide once more in explosive conjunction
coming as ever too soon upon our old weary reckoning
and we crawl again inside the same hateful habitation
sulking and seething in our mutal loathing.
We sing a song of no hope
an effigy that cannot cope
what mocking hand pulls the string
of our inelegant capering?
NO narrowness and no lean grizzly means
and I sputter like a rusty engine
each hammerstroke taunted
by the tantrums of your absurd cravings-
your flashing prima donna whimsical needs
the gold and grey of your solitude and solstices
groaning you heave yourself over to another day
your hard and long hours sub-contracted
leading on . .to points of no meaning
as you square up to them with tinselled bravado
peering through the faded plumage of your dusty decades
even as I call to you in baffled tenderness and fury in the ceasless fray
you lag forever a million heavy years behind;
still there was a summer . . .
the hot easy contempt of a greener time
stretched at weary length into disgruntled afternoon comprimise
after many a false clarion call of passion and alarm
when the blood bounded between us like a tormented sea
love came for that one and only time which made you eloquent
made you unique and beautiful
unafraid to acknowledge the presence of mirrors in the world
our mutal cells a strange sanctuary . . .
and I wept for the new beginning within us.
Sing a song for hands and feet
and for how the hell our burised hearts beat;
what supreme satist calls the tune
and calls us home from play too soon?
When we have been served the last taste of living
and the Man On High calls for the last time
I hope we can be gentlemen you and I
and quietly take our leave with no hangdog regrets
or lingering back after the hours
when there is nothing left in the bottle but the dregs of yesterday
and we slip into the final folly of the grave
bones and sinew no longer at the beck of random voices
our random passages crawling with industrious worms
and the daft bewildered battery box of a brain
with all it's loose screws and twisted wires brittle like wintry twigs
settle into unfamiliar quietude-
We face another puzzle-
When the crying's over and the tears dry,
who will have the laugh you or I?
WK Copyright 2005
Copyright ©
Man_On_High
... [
2006-02-03 02:23:50]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: a comedy...
(User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on
Friday, 3rd February 2006 @ 02:54:46 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| You are good. Another write that simply blows me away. Your message was so strong, your words so in tune. I could quote favorite lines here....but I'm afraid I'd be going on and on and on...you get the picture. Honored to be on this site amongst such wonderful writers. Peace to you, Laura |
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Re: a comedy...
(User Rating: 1 )
by MorningDove on
Friday, 3rd February 2006 @ 06:36:06 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
I hope, Billy, this can be a cleansing write for you. After all, in the end, does it really matter who wins?
hugs,
Rita |
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Re: a comedy...
(User Rating: 1 )
by Vampirequeen on
Saturday, 4th February 2006 @ 01:11:57 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| lol very interesting write. |
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Re: a comedy...
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Monday, 6th February 2006 @ 07:03:55 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
I have read this piece, oh gosh, so many times, I've lost count. Even before commenting [which I admit,
I have been reluctant to do, for fear I should blemish or somehow mar the sheer magnificence of this incredible
outpouring], I managed to post it in the best poem of the day thread. It was . . . as involuntary an effort as is breathing.
I can't get over what I have witnessed here.
Billy . . . I am astounded, [gasping, really, and not in the usual way from your writes], at your bravery, and quite literally,
(at the risk of the protest I am sure to receive from you), your brilliance and command of the written word. This vivid
cleansing of the soul's mind, full of revelations and discoveries one can only find upon examination of one's
self, is, frankly, breathtaking. [No, really. I literally had to remind myself to breathe. ] I read it and thought to
myself . . . now, this is depth !
Your use of imagery and description , is, [well, besides, just wow! ] expertly expressed, matched only
by your candor.
B -- my dearest, dearest friend, you are skilled beyond that which words could ever convery. You have
succeeded in sharing a genius very few have, in a most extraordinary and rare way and yet, without
even a hint of ostentation. And that, friends, is most admirable!
Thank you. Always your writes inspire me to be better, but this one; this glorious piece of wonderment,
trancsends even those borders. Reach for the stars indeed !
Bravo, Billy !!
Admiringly yours ~
~Breezy
(catching each moment and thought and savouring everyone to the last. )
(And if by some chance I have not, "got this", please forgive. It (poetry) is, [to me anyway], completely
subjective and personally interpretive. What we take from another's writes, ultimately helps us with
our own muffled thoughts and musings . . . and maybe even teaches us a little about ourselves
as well.])
K . . . sorry about the ramble . . . lol |
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Re: a comedy...
(User Rating: 1 )
by wizard on
Tuesday, 14th February 2006 @ 09:26:28 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
a most intriguing write...a sardonic comedy for sure.
therapy as it may have been for you...i feel as though i've benefited from reading it as well.
wiz |
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Re: a comedy...
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Wednesday, 15th March 2006 @ 05:04:25 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
well, lol. what can I say. He is perfect our creator. the things we do, how we act sometimes can be quite a comedy. I do not believe a comic or clown made us or our world. A lot may be crying in the end, laughing now. Life, reality, it is perfect in inself, we may not be all perfect in it. As we lead our lives , we do find craziness in it, ourselves and what we believe we see or hear from others. Just grab hold onto truth and be all those beautiful things that you are born to and are beautiful. sometime we are wreckless and we drive off the road, but we get all fixed up again and get back on the right path. Open up your heart, invite truth and light in, and go with that.. do your best each day, cry, laugh, scream, do your best, and pray you are to find joy and peace where you are going, and the creator is loving you, watching you always as you struggle and fall and He lifts you up when you hold out your hand. He will not laugh. He is all love, He is divine.
raquelLeah |
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