The philosophical meanderings of an aging redneck poet.
and my git-tar stays in tune
I can make it through
another wasted night.
---
To anyone but the curious
posing a question
is sometimes more difficult
than trying to find an answer.
---
A poor boys dream
is to be rich
get chicks
and drive fast cars.
---
The good old days
like living in a dream
are merely selective memories
spoken fondly of in the present.
---
Somewhere in transition
there's a free and easy child
with an untamed spirit
running naked to the bone.
---
Though lost to carnal greed
and sugar coated orgasms
they might be ingenues
in a kinder gentler time.
---
As darkness falls
an empty silence gives way
to the haunting cries
of endless sorrow.
---
A newborn infant child
a nobody yet
but soon in touch with dreams
and bound to run.
---
Where would sunshine be
without the weight
of coming darkness
resting on its shoulders.
---
In the seasons
of my time
I have known despair
and a tortured soul or two.
---
I've had many lovin' sweeties
and trophies on my arm
but yet it seems
none would be for long.
Poetry by David L Wright
Read 991 times
Written on 2008-02-02 at 21:41
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Is This What They Call Haiku
If the whiskey doesn't kill meand my git-tar stays in tune
I can make it through
another wasted night.
---
To anyone but the curious
posing a question
is sometimes more difficult
than trying to find an answer.
---
A poor boys dream
is to be rich
get chicks
and drive fast cars.
---
The good old days
like living in a dream
are merely selective memories
spoken fondly of in the present.
---
Somewhere in transition
there's a free and easy child
with an untamed spirit
running naked to the bone.
---
Though lost to carnal greed
and sugar coated orgasms
they might be ingenues
in a kinder gentler time.
---
As darkness falls
an empty silence gives way
to the haunting cries
of endless sorrow.
---
A newborn infant child
a nobody yet
but soon in touch with dreams
and bound to run.
---
Where would sunshine be
without the weight
of coming darkness
resting on its shoulders.
---
In the seasons
of my time
I have known despair
and a tortured soul or two.
---
I've had many lovin' sweeties
and trophies on my arm
but yet it seems
none would be for long.
Poetry by David L Wright
Read 991 times
Written on 2008-02-02 at 21:41
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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whisperinvoiz |
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Morpheus |
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Kathy Lockhart |
