Category Archives: Poetry

In response to the following news article: “Swerving to Miss Moose, Norwegian Man Slams Into Bear”

For some reason, that headline really speaks to me.

Oh, Miss Moose,
You silly goose.
For when I saw you there,
I swerved to avoid you,
For being hit,
Would have annoyed you.
And would have been unfair.
Sometimes it’s hard,
Being a Norwegian.
When moose are legion.
And nearly everywhere.
But then a brown bear,
Caught me unaware.
So hit it I did,
And it ran and hid.
Looks like irony,
Ran right over me,
When I ran into that bear.

BE

Just be, for a bit,
And see where it takes you.
No need to stress,
To feel
That you must
Exert yourself,
Alert yourself,
Be your pert little self,
That the world expects.
The world subjects us
To so much stress,
So much duress,
I must confess
That I often feel
Inclined to run
Into a wall
To fuck it all,
Let go and fall,
To tell the world to
Kiss my ass,
But this too shall pass,
Better to relax
And take the time,
A measured look,
Find your own rhyme,
Your rhythm,
Your own sense of time,
Wait for the dance
To come around,
Till you have found
It feels right,
And then
Despite
The wretched strain
You have the strength
To jump again into the race,
To smile and take
Your rightful place,
To show your face,
Amongst the best,
Subject yourself
To life’s pure test,
To strive, and struggle,
Give what’s for,
Untll once more,
It’s time to pause,
And take a rest.
Relax.
It’s just the dance.

Maybe I Should be Worried

Sometimes I wonder if,
There’s something wrong with me.
These days I’ll go two days,
Without a shower,
Even three.
When people ask me how I am,
I usually say I’m good.
But I don’t know,
Cause I don’t do,
The things I really should.
By now I thought that surely,
I could get up,
Bright and early.
But these days I lie awake in bed,
Or often sleep,
Till noon instead.
I’ve got nothing coming up,
And no job to worry about,
So there’s not much point,
In getting up.
No point in going out.
No point in doing anything.
No point in getting dressed.
Sometimes I wonder,
If I’m lazy,
Or just really depressed.

We Are Like Trees We Are

The crown, the glory,
Bursting leaves,
Majestic tops
On full grown trees,
But then the part
That no one sees,
Deep and strong
The roots below
Nourishing,
So it can grow,
Anchoring,
For when storms blow,
Larger than the crown,
Though not on show,
Extensive,
But without a fuss,
History and strength;
T’was ever thus,
Remain hidden,
As it is with us.