Monday, November 22, 2010

My Weaponry

I’ve got Charles Dickens prose
As sweet as a rose
I’ve Neil Young songs
That cry out to right wrongs
I’ve got the films of John Ford
For if ever I’m bored
And I’ve got grayish green breakwater dreams of pure silk
That are soothing as mother's milk
Yes I have long flowing embers of life
That incinerate trouble and strife
Along with simmering salads in oyster shells of nudity
To slap across the face of all prudity
And with me are the tremulous barks
Of fir trees in heat
Helping turn the bitter sour
Into the delicious sweet
Among the soft barely lit pine saunas of lust
And still more ways to change the hate into dust
There’s all we need in all places at all times
What’s important is that it’s there not whether it rhymes
We need not live in despair or mope
There’s so much from which we create joy and hope
Look to others look to ourselves our minds
To free us from any sorrow that our heart binds

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