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poem
To Live or Re-Live by michaelcahill

 

To Live or Re-Live
                         by michael cahill

 


new life
larger than
grand design so divine
                                they say
                who and whom you see
well--toothless and suckling instinctive
mindless unable to
pick
from a lineup
         or
testify
 

man’s best friend
and no one is peeing on anyone’s
        leg
just this moment when a
           friendly
hug will do …
 

this tabula rasa craves
a crayon maybe
or a skate key
or a mud pie
but a pair of Daisy Dukes
          will do
you and you and even you
but no one’s thru
             the door
      who knew
the thing to do


just the educated
oiled and spoiled
           few


and all who toiled
were soiled from head to somewhere
halfway down and swung around
embroiled embarrassingly shocking
as the impaled one is
you
when your uncle Jane declared to
buy them lace less
         shoes
 

but it was Sunday see
and sanctity
dissuaded sense
and holy hell
this makes you shout
some holy names
then Monday comes
            thank God
you made it
you are sure to be
             okay
 

childhood has moveable parts with varying
degrees of sympathy
         so insert them here
and then exert them and assert them
             as your conscious allows
and your selfish side finds desire
and reckless yearning plows on through
          the debt that you perceive
 

the fabric of the earth and all upon it
      owes
            to you
and all you did done did
      and will done do
no matter if it’s       true
  

for it looks and sounds so very touching
              true
and gets you
every pulsing heart
            as blue as love
  that’s true
for even though you lie
 

the story burns a campfire
worth of sugared goo
and diabetic comas
soon ensue
and pocket watches vanish


to the local pawn shop
 

          items                flew
while sleeping someone deftly had
       their
             way
                 with
                      you
but smile for that sweet
                           story
could’ve have been so gruesome
                                  gory
 

and the nights in purgatory
that you’ve spared the orphaned child
found floating on the ocean
twenty years
without a sip of Mountain          Dew
 

and the thought of special sauce
slathered on a char-broiled burger
keeps the sea from winning
            this
war of attrition
for the solemn sad admission
gets a pounding and it’s lost within
a frolic as two lovers
          who got lucky
linger long enough to put the
lonely shell up to their ear
and hear the whispered plea
of that poor fool that couldn’t be
what everyone is born
for


can’t you see?
you are born to live the life
             that’s meant to be
not to dwell in some
conundrum pulling at some knot
that wasn’t meant for you
to try and loosen and untie
 

and there’s no answer if you do
and no time left now for you
and just a little rope
and it won’t serve you well
 

you ponder destinations but you’ve already


arrived


you’re not going anywhere
you’re not a traveler
it is clear
for hell’s a warm, warm
                                   home
 




or

live



true
 
as
 
you                                    alone


 

 photo goldgold1_zpsdhfkq8mm.jpg






 

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