Where Have All the People Gone?

Remember the days when they were around,
Clogging up our paths with their noisy cars.
No matter where, they could always be found,
Way more numerous than the nighttime stars.
The dog have now gained control of the soi
And we may roam wherever we may please.
There’s no reason for us to remain coy
As we strut down the streets with perfect ease.
No more being chased away by a broom,
Or to growl and bark at the passersby.
The weak among us claim that it is our doom
That without the humans we may all die.
But I tell those dogs that they had their chance,
And it is our turn to take on the dance.

 

The Toilet Paper Baron

The rush allowed me to build this tower,
And buy this throne upon which I now sit.
The money made me crazy with power,
I was the man who cleaned up people’s shit.
I increased production on brand new rolls,
And made sure to stock full ev’ry market,
For the masses wished to fill all their holes
By hoarding the tp stash they could get.
I made the mistake thinking that the boom
Would last forever, and would never end,
But no expiration date was my doom,
While with all of my money, I did spend.
Now this tissue is what no one does buy
‘Cause they overextended their supply.

(Writer’s note: In this new age, the traveling I used to be able to do is no longer happening. I am going to have to put my plans on hold for awhile, but I felt I needed to put into context what I see on the news while I am sequestered in my home, and show the absurdity of our lives right now. It is just my take on things, and I hope you enjoy the following poems and as soon as life returns back to normal, I will return to the usual travel posts, and poems inspired by those travels. Thanks for tuning in.)

The Moment

Why do we feel the need to get away?
Should we not see all in the moment?
After we have been a part of the play,
Do we realize how our time was spent?
For in the small time of experience,
When we believe that it does not matter,
It actually holds the most importance
Of what we’ll eventually remember.
The passing does not give explanation
Of why we should stop and pay attention.
It is nothing more than an extension
Of giving my life representation.
Should I worry about the moment spent,
Or never care about where it all went?

Should I Order the Curry?

What’s life without a little bit of spice?
Shall we dread that explosion of flavor
For the way our stomach will pay the price
As pride brags of the pain we can endure?

But what do we get from a life that’s bland?
Can we experience the excitement
From a dinner that never takes a stand
To remind us of how the dining went?

How safe do I wish to make this moment?
Will I make it one of my favorite
While in the morning I have to repent?
Or will I make it or I will forget?

Who knew this much thought went into dinner,
But life depends on finding a winner.

The Coming of Spring

The winter snow crunches under our feet,
Showing to all the path we have taken.
Over the hills, the morning sun does greet
The frosty breath that our mouth are makin’.
We made it to the muddy fields outside
The bird whose wings will fly us to our home.
Though the seeds on buds in the soil still hide,
In a short time, over the grass, they’ll roam.
We finally arrive in the sun’s land
And we shed the clothes we had worn this day.
The moon shines on the waves hitting the sand,
Licking the bare soles of our feet in play.
It just takes the rotation of the clock
To dismantle the winter’s icy stock.

How We Communicate

I don’t know what happened to this beer hall
For it was a boisterous atmosphere,
And we made sure that it included all
To its nightly revelry and loud cheer.
But a hush has settled over the crowd
Who have come to dine here in recent years.
Their attention is in a diff’rent cloud
That plays into the irrational fears.
They once gained warmth by the burning embers,
And the conversation with a stranger.
They stare at another glowing member
Unaware of its inherent danger.
Each person in this beer hall is alone
Because of the possession of their phone.

Our Blind Eye

Do we want to see the atrocity
Taking place in the darker part of town?
Would we rather look on what is pretty,
Pretending that nothing is going down?
It is easy to do while the money flows
Because we can spend it on forgetting,
But as a conscience of a nation grows,
Will we be the ones who are regretting
Not standing up for what we know is right?
Will it be worth the pain we will endure
If we don’t side with justice in this fight,
And hide behind the economic cure?
How do we convince the population?
By playing into their desperation?