#230
Dare to gamble with the gods?
Over a few pennies? When Zeus
threatens to clap
where is your enlightenment?
Why dare at the
fool’s contest when
first place’s ribbon
is a participation cloth
anyways?
#231
The questions
the options
when decisions
aren’t defined
lines, where do
we strike?
Which move
moves us further
along the path? How
can i know
the right direction
when my vision
is so clouded
and i am
so, so, so tired.
#232
The chaos of dreaming
much too deeply. Of
losing myself in
conversations and
ordinary adventures amongst
those alternative realities,
will i reach there on my
own or will the distractions
of the waking keep
leading me so far astray?
#233
Those answers, those answers,
if only i could have it all
defined. To know. To clearly
see the path, why i would
simply charge through it,
thunder upon it. Or so i
say. Perhaps reminding myself
about the joys in mystery is
in fact the great truth. And,
truth be told, knowing could be
quiet boring. At least,
in the darkness,
there is always hope.
#234
Staying in a flea bag
in Mozambique,
am i cool yet?
Am i heroic enough
for teenage posters?
Will Henry Miller tip
his hat? Unlikely,
i suppose, unless i read
his works. The
bed bends better
than the concave of
any skate deck i’ve own,
a shit poem
for a shit decision,
only in Mozambique
will the police turn you
away because you might
be a criminal. Fuck.
Stop trying so hard
and flow, roll like
you used to.
Breathe, sigh, and
expel with every
exhale. You are
nothing, and thats magnificent.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write