I can’t believe what I see;
Bipeds making believe they know,
making reality a game show
Surviving in the jungle, swapping wives on set
These inhabitants sure are funny.
The Boss did say the night shift was all thrills
Will they never rise beyond warring?
Rise beyond nuclear? So much to be unlocked, yet so
Little they grab at and crown an achievement
I wonder no more,
The Boss was right, there are weird creatures in the
galaxy like these Bipeds mucking up the Plan.
Climbed the highest mountain a week ago
Sheltered in the deepest valley days ago
No escape comes my way, so I…
Plunged into the sea today and prayed for a whale
To take me…make me forget.
I have seen myself
And it’s ugly.
Sometimes beautiful, but mostly ugly
Eggshell cracks in my mouth
Littering my mind like Sore Eyes before me at the corner.
Coroners get a lot of these on their slabs, nameless
hopeless beings shopping for coins in hidden places on
That’s why the eggshells are quickly flushed down,
heading straight for the grinder deep within me where
things get forgotten.
Why do dreams always end up in the garbage?
Economy never brings equality
So, with quick dispatch my juices digest it all
before it eats me up, this sight of homeless people
stuttering around, cursing their luck.
They are on the wrong side of the game, long ago
decided. Whose law will save them? No need to look
far, just around the corner.
No more eggshells in my mouth, I have passed the sight
for sore eyes, soon to forget them, till next time I pass
“You never know when a handheld photocopier might
come in handy so why not invent one now?”
That’s what my muse told me last night as I skipped my way into the White House Presidency on votes of change, untainted by colour.
She said, (my muse is female) “the One before might never have found weapons of mass destruction but I better keep the war chest pumping”.
Sometimes I can’t figure her out or why she says
non-earthlings will visit the Earth in my generation. She doesn’t call them aliens. She says we all own the galaxy so how could ‘they’ be aliens?
All I want is a mobile phone that can drive the car, Jack Bauer as my Head of Security and Halle Berry as his assistant.
No one ever said a Muse should stop me from dreaming or tell the difference between poetry and comedy
May your love grow
May Matter and Space not matter so much
And Time, may it fail to pry apart your bonded hearts
May you live to remember this love, of today
Cupid Series Copyright ©2008 Dayo Adefila