The River
The River: QUANDARY
The River: QUANDARY
Life along the Quandary beside the stilling basin
there will be no garden planted nor trees that stand attended.
A soupy smelly mess of flowing sludge inside the trough
where days we wait for heavens rains to sluice this smelly lot .
We grovel along the Quandary, a river never more,
in hopes of one day the reign of man will wizen to the chore.
Along the graveled edge of time we make the choices now,
beside the murky depths of quandary’s unclean shore.
We are perched upon ancient animal’s horns a dilemma
catching us un aware; to toss us from point to point upon an unruly
brow to spike our soul and prick the attention of what is happening now.
This nasty sort of awakening bounces from good to bad to worse.
To enlightening some to the life they lead to others it brings despair.
Some still sit astride a Unicorn while most prefer the Gryphon’s ride;
as mortal man defines his lot in terms of what is missing inside.
These last sort prefer to walk a path, to leave a trail for friends.
In a universe, where we all may lay ; between what is clogged
and beset with our individual ways. A green mass flows slowly,
clogged with effluent trash, the shedding skin of economic growth
and disasters from natures undulating mass.
To swim in the River Quandary a marathon it may be; to change the
world from a future of lifeless ensuing years, where around us lays
nothing but disgusting in-humane action, the refuse of mistrust.
Ethereal spirit beings! Can we use this parallel to define and contradict?
In a world that is intertwined and upside down, filled with doppelganger friends?
Do we want them to clog our future world with their Quandaries left for you?
To leave this once pristine world to our children’s dreams!
Giving a chance to another generation,
I ask you to listen to the echo’s
from the valleys of ancient dreams ,
as upside down logic clouds vision and insight
the parallel lightening strikes
while logical disinformation laughs
aloud with pure delight.
a. j. anon 2008/ ©
there will be no garden planted nor trees that stand attended.
A soupy smelly mess of flowing sludge inside the trough
where days we wait for heavens rains to sluice this smelly lot .
We grovel along the Quandary, a river never more,
in hopes of one day the reign of man will wizen to the chore.
Along the graveled edge of time we make the choices now,
beside the murky depths of quandary’s unclean shore.
We are perched upon ancient animal’s horns a dilemma
catching us un aware; to toss us from point to point upon an unruly
brow to spike our soul and prick the attention of what is happening now.
This nasty sort of awakening bounces from good to bad to worse.
To enlightening some to the life they lead to others it brings despair.
Some still sit astride a Unicorn while most prefer the Gryphon’s ride;
as mortal man defines his lot in terms of what is missing inside.
These last sort prefer to walk a path, to leave a trail for friends.
In a universe, where we all may lay ; between what is clogged
and beset with our individual ways. A green mass flows slowly,
clogged with effluent trash, the shedding skin of economic growth
and disasters from natures undulating mass.
To swim in the River Quandary a marathon it may be; to change the
world from a future of lifeless ensuing years, where around us lays
nothing but disgusting in-humane action, the refuse of mistrust.
Ethereal spirit beings! Can we use this parallel to define and contradict?
In a world that is intertwined and upside down, filled with doppelganger friends?
Do we want them to clog our future world with their Quandaries left for you?
To leave this once pristine world to our children’s dreams!
Giving a chance to another generation,
I ask you to listen to the echo’s
from the valleys of ancient dreams ,
as upside down logic clouds vision and insight
the parallel lightening strikes
while logical disinformation laughs
aloud with pure delight.
a. j. anon 2008/ ©
