Summertime Rhymes- # 7 “I Dinnae Ask Ta Be Born”

“I Dinnae Ask Ta Be Born”

 

I Dinnae Ask Ta Be Born.

And yet, most people treat me as if I did.

With all due respect,

Nonexistence never hurt me the way existence does.

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Summertime Rhymes- # 6: “Pity Party”

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“Pity Party”

Come and join my pity party.

There’s a seat right next to me.

I’ll share more than you care to know.

It’ll only costs some sympathy.

Can I convince you, that life is tough?

That, misfortune follows me?

For wrong or right, or just for spite,

Fate supports my misery.

If I could list, you’d get the gist,

Of all my maladies.

You could conceive, all that aggrieves,

And keeps me from some peace.

Hop on my train, while I complain,

It’s nice when I can confide.

Your presence here, your open ear,

Helps deny the facts I hide.

It might well be, that I can’t see,

How my choices bring pain to me.

But at this table, you help enable,

A lack of accountability.

When the sky falls, Who’s at fault?

Well, it certainly can’t be me.

For, fate’s designs, keep me behind.

Please, take pity on me.

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Summertime Rhymes- # 5: “Standing Still”

“And The Band Plays On” ©️C.P. Hickey 2019

“Standing Still”

Arrested development.

A New Age prerequisite?

Founding unfounded regrets.

Of all things unsaid,

Trapped in one’s head,

Admission of stagnancy foments.

Bearing witness,

The standard litmus.

The measure of men often hides.

Life long lethargy,

Finite Fibonacci.

Complacency has a sinister downside.

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Summertime Rhymes- # 4: “Grass Of Blades”

“Jungle” ©️C.P. Hickey 2019

For W.W.

“Grass Of Blades”

Tickle gentle to the touch.
Flitting fragile strength.
An energy converter,
Framed by window panes.
Gritty soil planting,
Upward growth, indeed.
Monotheistic monocultures,
Planting nascent seed.
Right-on, mower grips the hill,
Mounting grassy knoll.
Homogeneous landscapes,
Over time, take a toll.
The Nature of Nature,
Sometimes gets repressed.
When the good green earth’s attacked,
It will seek ways of redress.

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Summertime Rhymes- # 3: “Selective, Verbally”

“Jumping Through Hoops” ©️C.P. Hickey 2019

“Selective, Verbally”

It isn’t that I cannot speak,

Or that I have no words.

It’s just the world outside of me,

Overwhelms at every turn.

What’s going on inside of me?

My personal mystery.

In small moments I reach out,

And treat you to a peek.

There is a concert symphony,

Playing in my mind.

The tempo goes from fast to slow,

Despite the outward signs.

I’m not trapped in here, oh no.

It’s you, that’s trapped outside.

Beauty resides in my confines,

Expressed in grand design.

I have much to tell.

So much inside of me.

Be patient for it to unfold.

I’m selective, verbally.

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