Posted: June 11, 2014 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , ,

There are those that believe life offers reasons

when even our hearts break wide open

we always find someone to tell us exactly why

that was supposed to happen

everything contains purpose

while the man thought he was being clever

the walls gradually collapsed around him.

Those taunting tirades

will ever be willing to step inside

your dreams, aspirations, passions

only as difficult travels

impede the true satisfaction

that we all desire

that we seem to believe exists

that will respond to our own courage.

Yet how do we fall

what clever stone-smith lays out the rock

for our bodies to trip upon

knocking each other’s shoulders aside

while we knowingly regain balance?

Take a chance old man,

in the most Gatsby-ish manner of speak

Ol’ sport you just have to be there

in the moment

the present

reaching beyond the trivial

to grasp upon the reigns of a truly

delightful euphoria.

For that is what we seek I think,

has nothing to do with the mechanical


of our human condition, that piece of animal

that breathes through organs and veins and 

spilled blood …

That is where chance becomes less real.

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