ImplosionThe world is imploding
collapsing, falling on itself
the weight too heavy to bear
Fairness falls into greed
its spectre of wealth
all too alluring
Harmony tumbles into destruction
destroying the planet, societies
Love trips into hate
cupid arrows transform to gunshots -
missiles, bombs for reasons no one could remember
Understanding blurs into ignorance
from what other people have said
even though its only speculation
We dream of the stars, distinct galaxies
as if it could save the rainforests, oceans,
disappearing species all over the globe
as if it could stop the violence, greed
and corruption that stifles so many
as we desperately hope that
we can save ourselves from ourselves
before it’s too late
The world is imploding,
everything collapsing into itself
as we pretend that it’s not happening
try to believe that everything is alright
but it’s not.
OrbitingDoes anyone mean as they mean?
Maybe some things are really as they seem
but you keep looking for hidden meanings
desperate to see things other than they are
You’re not happy here, are you?
(Fabled fantasies, faded photographs, fear of failure
shedded tears, silly lists, shredded papers
you pack it all up and carry it as you wander on
creeping darkness to concrete)
Would you run into orbit if you can?
You run and try to fly but no one gives you a hand
it’s not that there’s no one there it’s just that there’s
no one who understands
Still, you take a step and blast away
climb the sky and pace around the planet
what did the moon say?
what did the stars say?
the day you became a satellite
(They said little but smiled
in the way that moons and stars
can smile to you
reflecting, radiating light so amazing
your eyes in awe at such a sight)
You’re still running around alone in circles but
now you can see the world that you were supposedly from
The Furry Flurries of SpringBefore the flurry of fur begins, pick out the hooves
oh the neat piles of dirt on the ground and your pants!
At least horsie isn't playing the hoof-anchoring game,
eliciting rants a fight you're rather not choose
Round and round goes currycomb
as bits of fur loosen, enough to drown a small rat
and now in the comb, look you have a fur mat!
while hair and dust roam away from home
Swish and flick! goes the dandy
as with each sweep and flick the fur flies
soaring onto you and into your mouth and eyes
oh how that vacuum-cleaner would be handy!
Swish- swish - swish, scrape! goes the body brush
fur and dirt cascading in a furry flurry
almost adding more fur as you scrape the still-furry curry
luckily horsie isn't in a rush, lazily dreaming of grass so lush
Tufts of fur fall in a fur-storm as you scrape with the shedding blade,
oh look at the little furry mustaches and beards you've helped made!
Now fix up that mane and tail and the horse
looks so smart, so spar
The MechanicNow there was this mechanic
Who seemed to be a manic
With some odd, ambiguous auto part
The way he's acting, you'll think it was an art
Loves to hear the motors drone
With a fleet of vehicles back home
Yet he doesn't have one to drive
'Cause none of his cruisin' cars are alive
Walking around, clothes all gross and oily
Guess he thinks that most cars are holy.
All that fuss just to screw in some bolt
Better hope your piece of metal doesn't revolt
But that's okay, he'll fix it too
Drops the change into his coveralls, that'll do
Only a few minutes of actual labour
How well it works? Better say a prayer
Goes around in some a old-clunker
Though the town, almost requiring petal-power
Forget the lovely ocean, mountains and trees
He'll rather speed around that track, please
Spends more time in the garage then home
No clean clothes in sight, as a car gleams its chrome
Loves the roar of imitated horsepower
Gladly he'll tell you all those miles he went in an hour.
But back to his occupation