by ntmdude
Grass Grows Up Three Inches “Grass grows up three inches,” how about that? “At midnight in the mountains, the donkey’s cry is very noisy,” how about that? Monkeys like bananas, horses like apples,” how about that? “The train goes down the tracks, the bus goes down the road,” how about that? […]
Nothing like a good call and response selection. Here is an excerpt from one of my pieces:
It’s the midnight hour, yet I’m still searchin for the light.
Seeking a righteous path; peering across dark alleys. No time to be contrite.
Back pedaling… procrastination weighs a heavy price.
Hold on tight!
I’m at a crossroad of sorts. Another day squandered… so at midnight I seek remorse.
In solitude I dare to pick apart my flaws. Channeling the depths of my deepest thoughts. Wasted talent, loss of ambition. Shameful cliffs…I’m drifting.
In fact I’ve fallen numerous times. Never afraid to rebound and continue to climb. Twilight conflictions summon moments of reflection. Truth sipped in gulps.
Tough to swallow but sweet for the soul. Honest critiques with no ill intent, just warning to self.
Thinking at the midnight hour. Wonder if all you can be is where you are at this instance.
Since when did when become now? Time passes, moments become memories while the future lies in our presence.
Satisfied or still striving?
Thanks again for sharing! I hope you get the chance to follow me: https://asanemansinterventionpartone.wordpress.com/
enjoyed your poem “a curse” on verse-virtual site. Nice to know zen masters can definitely be rattled by current murders. Particularly liked the ugly image of spittle soaked cigar.