Page the Second


A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Friday, April 19, 2013

More Poems About Mayhem

That got you. Apparently you like mayhem. Okay. I'll see what I can do.

Poems 5 and 6

The 'Man' just hollered from outside
He said he could not find the broom.
He can't find the tools 
or the tent or light spools
It's about time to clean out the room.

The bad thing is that he won't let me
Lift a finger to clean out the shed
He's always quite gruff
That I hide all his stuff
So I tell him that he must instead.

The trouble with that is, he's busy.
On the computer he often hides out.
He's shooting bad bugs
Or aliens on drugs
So, to hint at the shed makes him shout.

I can't stand another darn minute.
I'm going to clean up the shed.
I don't care if he's mad
Or the change makes him sad
If I don't, I will pop and be dead.


In potent darkness
Of the opening
Of the new year
In the light
Of a flickering fire
We burn
The faults
And rise anew
With the sparks
Of the fire.
Fed by mistakes
Made pure now
With forsaking.
Hope rises
With the sparks
Wraps around us
Fills us with

H. Linn Murphy 

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