FlexWriters Creative Network

Moonshine
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Some say it's a mistake
to dwell on my insignificance.
The appalling gall of my arrogance
to think my ignorance any better.

But I am drawn to this question,
as an answer to a philosophical riddle.
Who is the monkey on my monkeys back?
Together we endure this terrible affliction.

The cards have been dealt from a stacked deck,
and all I have to play are jokers and fools.
It is all I can do to bluff my way to the prize,
and then fold when pressed by aces and kings.

The luxuries I enjoy a manifestation of guilt,
no matter how poor I am, I cannot compete.
I survive a rich man in comparison to woe,
and complain that my fortune is not enough.

There is so much beauty in this world,
in contrast to all of the crying pain.
My desires are so insignificant,
yet so demanding of my intent.

I am breaking down, falling apart,
my youth somewhere behind me.
My love and passions brimming
to overflowing in ebbs and tides.

I am the moon, bright and cheery,
unnecessary and insignificant.
And except for all of my arrogance,
my ignorance is all I have to shine.

Me, Myself and I
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Is it really all about me?
Myself and I are truly envious,
we're considering leaving me alone.

But then I tell myself, I wouldn't like it,
so I give me a break and stick around.
Try to forget myself and let you in.

You and I get along just fine,
at least until you said you love me.
And then I was jealous of me.

How could I tell myself that
you were in love with me?
I just couldn't believe it.

Not that I would accuse you of lying,
I love myself but there's something
about me that's so very selfish.

If you love me as much as I do,
then everything might be okay.
At least I tell myself that.

You love me more than I love myself,
and it concerns me that I love you.
Oh what am I to do about myself?

We're never alone the three of us,
me, myself and I… and now you.
It's not really all about me after all.

So we're really pleased to meet you.
I love you and you love me, can't
wait to get you alone all by myself.

Hummingbirds and Butterflies
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

It's all about the hummingbirds and butterflies,
rainbows dragging pot's of gold just out of reach.
It's the poetry of ambition the carrot on a stick,
and I am just the mule to put pen to paper.

Words are my magic markers, squeaking on your eyes,
the smell of ink, an idea, escaping my thoughts and
transgressing your soul and trampling your mind.
Oh look! A butterfly… a hummingbird!

That's all it took, a couple of pretty baubles,
and now I'm creeping around in your head.
And I'll scratch the surface and do my best
to satisfy that intimate itch between your ears.

You thought you were so alone, with your thoughts,
but now you're sharing mine, voluntarily mind you.
I wouldn't violate you unless you perceived it that way,
and if I did, and you liked it. Would you admit it?

Shhhh now remember hummingbirds and butterflies,
forget the raucous world of reality outside your mind.
I'm in here with you now, hold my hand and fly,
we are sharing the wind and rain, the love and the pain.

It's not just all about me, we make this fiction together,
we… you and I, need each other like Adam and Eve.
We will love and fight, we will cover ourselves in leaves,
chase rainbows and admire hummingbirds and butterflies.

We are the paint, the pen, the putty of imagination,
and we stroke, strike and passionately create…
We are not alone, you and I, together we are one,
we are many, and so much more than we thought.

Another Way
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

It is such a violent love,
a stalkers obsession of politics.
Chocolates and flowers instead of
mousetraps and cheese.

We are such guilded rats,
trapped in a gold encrusted maze.
Rewarded for our Pavlovian responses
in a world of left and right choices.

There are pitfalls and pratfalls,
comedic rhymes and reasons.

We are riders in the hand basket to hell,
stopping occasionally to picnic with
army ants pursuing a singular goal.

And it is all so deadly passionate,
the laughter of the reaper, echoing.
While gathering in great swaths…
an audience of beheaded ignobility.

And in this we condescend to lies,
bowing to no greater fools than ourselves.

Because winning is nothing
compared to losing everything.
And nothing must be maintained,
we must win at any cost.

We the guilded rats
in the manipulated maze.
Rewarded with gold,
chocolates and cheese.

Turning to the left and to the right,
with the ease of reactive jackbooted knees.

Woe unto the God's and heroes,
that train us to fall as cannon fodder.
Into the long war, subservient to life,
shell shocked stupid, by fear and imagination.

For though our love may be violent,
we are cowards who seek the peace.
Stalkers with an obsession to exit…
this golden maze, to find another way.

My Last Cigarette
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Every cigarette is my last
the self abuse will continue
until my morale improves.

It could've been whiskey,
I'm rather charming when drunk,
but the cold hug of porcelain is
a false love of epic proportions.

So I smoke my last cigarette…

It could've been drugs,
it was for a while, a delightful buzz.
But I refuse to be out of control,
I… am the master of my destiny.

So I smoke my last cigarette…

It could've been women,
never was, not even for a moment.
I placed them too high upon a pedestal,
far away, a self-fulfilling disappointment.

So I smoke my last cigarette…

It could've been a lot of things,
passions and loves, I've lost and found,
scattered across the tribulative years.
My addictions and obsessions in life.

So I smoke my last cigarette…

I puff and puff, wheeze and growl,
dissatisfied with every breath I take.
As if the fresh air would kill me…
Until my morale improves.

So I smoke my last cigarette…

I can't blame the women, the drugs or booze.
I refused to lose control, master of my destiny,
a slave to all that I resist. I am a formidable foe,
and I am slain, with this cigarette, my last breath.

Always dissatisfied, so I smoke my last cigarette.