As with most momentary thoughts it is unknown when this fragment will float to the top of the misty mind again to be further rework.
Slight re-word 09/07/2010
Crystal ships on a mountain top.
Waiting to sail on a hot dinner plate.
Warmed by a sun as it turns to red.
Chiming sound as an anchor breaks.
Sending rippling shards on the surface wake.
A ship sails on and off the edge.
Spiraling slow toward the ravenous drain..
Friday, June 27, 2008
Mole People
As with most momentary thoughts it is unknown when this one will float to the top of the misty mind again to be further rework.
Mole people live in the sky.
In tall stone castles, hollow inside.
Scurry through tunnels up and down,
orderly passages, one above one,
Chambers fashioned clean on each side.
Mole people drop deep below ground.
To forage for food and all else they desire.
Milling around with a million others.
Eyes cast away so they never meet, not acknowledging the others exist.
Mole people out for a stroll.
They travel their tunnels,
one end to the other.
Then turn back in fear,
leas they may climb out into the sunny dangerous air.
Mole people don't realize.
At the end of their long tunnels,
on the other side of their earthen cement walls.
It all starts again, more tunnels for more mole people.
Who know not of each others existence.
Mole people live and mole people die.
Never having set foot under the great big blue sky.
Never see the sun, never felt the moon.
Dark sky, starry sky, foreign to them.
Mole people scurry back to their chambers.
To pile their new found treasures into their little hoards.
Then fall into fitful sleep awaiting the next new day.
Never imagining.
Mole people live in the sky.
In tall stone castles, hollow inside.
Scurry through tunnels up and down,
orderly passages, one above one,
Chambers fashioned clean on each side.
Mole people drop deep below ground.
To forage for food and all else they desire.
Milling around with a million others.
Eyes cast away so they never meet, not acknowledging the others exist.
Mole people out for a stroll.
They travel their tunnels,
one end to the other.
Then turn back in fear,
leas they may climb out into the sunny dangerous air.
Mole people don't realize.
At the end of their long tunnels,
on the other side of their earthen cement walls.
It all starts again, more tunnels for more mole people.
Who know not of each others existence.
Mole people live and mole people die.
Never having set foot under the great big blue sky.
Never see the sun, never felt the moon.
Dark sky, starry sky, foreign to them.
Mole people scurry back to their chambers.
To pile their new found treasures into their little hoards.
Then fall into fitful sleep awaiting the next new day.
Never imagining.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Low end people
As with most momentary thoughts it is unknown when this one will float to the top of the misty mind again to be further rework.
Slight re-write 20/07/2010
Low end people, living low end lives.
Searching the dollar stores, for a two dollar thrill.
See the gleam in their eye, as they snatch their prize.
Foreign made plastics that should have been steel.
Low end people, living low end lives.
Just yesterday, they were not that way.
Living the good life, in suburbia isolated.
They had it all, their Japanese SUV car.
Their made in Taiwan stereo, their Korean TV.
Everything they own, everything they have.
Even their home if you look at the back
Says made in anywhere, except in their own home town.
We are low end people, living our low end lives.
Always blaming everyone else for the mess we are in.
Always complaining that “someone” should fix.
Stunned eyes watch as prices soar.
Minds baffled as the wages drop.
Bodies stand in shock, just another casualty of vanishing outsourced jobs.
Never imagining, never realizing, with our greed to get it cheep.
We are just undermining ourselves.
Low end people, living low end lives.
Staring intently, enamored with our foreign made TV’s.
Watching carefully crafted mind numbing reality drivel.
Designed to keep us appeased.
Always ready to select a new savior to next come rescue us from ourselves.
Each making fantastic promises with fresh new old lies.
Traitor to ourselves
Traitors to our people.
Slight re-write 20/07/2010
Low end people, living low end lives.
Searching the dollar stores, for a two dollar thrill.
See the gleam in their eye, as they snatch their prize.
Foreign made plastics that should have been steel.
Wal-Mart people, in a Wal-Mart world.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence.
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping.
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence.
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping.
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
Low end people, living low end lives.
Just yesterday, they were not that way.
Living the good life, in suburbia isolated.
They had it all, their Japanese SUV car.
Their made in Taiwan stereo, their Korean TV.
Everything they own, everything they have.
Even their home if you look at the back
Says made in anywhere, except in their own home town.
Wal-Mart people, in a Wal-Mart world.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
We are low end people, living our low end lives.
Always blaming everyone else for the mess we are in.
Always complaining that “someone” should fix.
Stunned eyes watch as prices soar.
Minds baffled as the wages drop.
Bodies stand in shock, just another casualty of vanishing outsourced jobs.
Never imagining, never realizing, with our greed to get it cheep.
We are just undermining ourselves.
Wal-Mart people, in a Wal-Mart world.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
Low end people, living low end lives.
Staring intently, enamored with our foreign made TV’s.
Watching carefully crafted mind numbing reality drivel.
Designed to keep us appeased.
Always ready to select a new savior to next come rescue us from ourselves.
Each making fantastic promises with fresh new old lies.
Traitor to ourselves
Traitors to our people.
Wal-Mart people, in a Wal-Mart world.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence.
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping.
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
Shuffle along in stunned shell shocked silence.
Slippers dragging, muumuu flapping.
Don’t get caught between them and the discount bin.
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