Disclaimer and other poems
Photo credit: cohdra from morguefile.com
Disclaimer
I don’t know of any poets
Whose words I can quote
From memory
Nor as worthy of some note
I don’t wish to hold a quill
Dipped in archaic blue ink
And muse about those of yore
I don’t wish to be a cool coffee poet
Smoking cigarettes wearing black
In dark dimly-lit cafes
Through endless afternoons
I don’t wish to rhyme and reason
About men and love in the world
And how I’ve survived
The sting of sunrise
But then again, I am her
A solitary feminine watchtower
Running over the same old trodden path
I am her, tossing and turning in my sheets
Through the thick wildernesses of night
Reading and writing
This thing we have become.
Snow White and the Girl Next Door.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Have you found what you’re looking for?
Will it be satin sheets this evening and suede shoes
How about flawless skin and frizz-ease shampoo?
A smart phone…under a sassy belt?
With Frank Sinatra in the ringtone…?
Try these sunglasses on your high cheekbones
Or is it something else…. a sweet tooth for Dutch waffle cones?
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Have you found what you’re looking for?
Are you scrambling for those tickets to U2?
Live in New York, living in your soul…
Is it a season’s pass to the festival at Cannes?
Or a spot under a thatched sun roof on a holiday in Bali?
Or maybe a round of rowdy tequila with the boys in Mexico…
I know… just a secret rendezvous under the city lights of Chicago.
Oh Mirror mirror on the wall,
Have you found what you’re looking for?
Is it to flaunt the latest diet that hath it all?
In a Gucci, Prada or Veronika Mayne
To flashes from the adoring eyes of the paparazzi
Who’ll take your front page cover to the magazine stalls?
Oh Mirror Mirror on the wall,
I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.
I want to be first at the queue to the ATM
Grab a hot coffee and call my dear friend
Laze about in some warm sunshine
And talk about the same things we do, time after time.
Dare to Dream
Some people look for freedom
But look for it in all the wrong places
They dream about wings to fly
But hide behind those weary faces
Say what you mean and mean what you say
Dreams become real, as the night the day.
Few are those who dare to dream
Let the power of it test their mettle
It takes a great measure of courage and strength
To move stubborn rocks and let the dust settle
Ask any man who’s worth his charm
Ask this man of estate
Or ask the common folk flocking on either side of his arms
Or his many friends: We profess! He is great!
Such a man, he’s bound to sit you down
And turn your ideas about fame and success, all around
When he tells you of the mysterious ways the world goes about
Where strange and happy co-incidences abound, no doubt.
Let’s take a chance, he’ll say
And not gloat on about what we’ve done
But be amused by possibility, and awaken, to who we may yet become
Let’s take the road less traveled, he’ll pray
And discover, for there’s so much more to us
Magic is the name of the place…remember,
…where we all come from.
__O__
