Tag Archives: Outlooks

MY SHOES DON’T MATCH

lee_broom

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointy toe

The other a moc

I noticed as I sat down.

(I remembered a time
In Pershing Square
An orator holding his own
“The end is nigh
Beware my friends
Repent before heading Home”)

(Is he right) I wondered

My shoes don’t match

I’d found them a moment ago

I repented not

(They were warm and snug
I left them on my toes.)

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointed toe

The other a moc

Each slipped over

A woolen sock

The time was passing

Tickety tock

A smile replacing a frown;

I have another pair just like these

And they are my very own.

 

 

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AND THE BEAT GOES ON…

MUD PIES
Mud-Pies                         Sandra Schou

 

AND THE BEAT GOES ON…

 

When opinions reek of danger and

Outlooks collide,

When bias hisses,

When judgment derides,

When prejudice misses

The mark,

It is the absence of “Hark”,

The dark temptation to seekers of Truth.

“Alle heil der abend,”

As last light fails

And discourse galls

The light of Reason.

And feeds upon

The mindless nod of

A thousand, million heads.

“Shall we do this?”

(cries the headman)

Sure; whatever.

And then arrives

An alternate view

To an optimistic few.

And a rosier future

Prevails.

As autumn brings a withering reminder

Of thoughtless, irretrievable syllables

This new Ship sails

To sites and sounds unknown.

A few have grown

And risen above the moan

Of grieving masses.

Life as must, moves on.

Lee_Broom
Lee Broom

 

And the Beat Goes On…………..

 

Family2010002

When opinions reek of danger and

Outlooks collide,

When bias hisses,

When judgment derides,

When prejudice misses

The mark,

It is the absence of “Hark”,

The dark temptation to seekers of Truth.

Alle heil der abend

As last light fails

And discourse galls

The light of Reason.

And feeds on

The mindless nod of

A thousand, million heads.

Shall we do this cries the headman

Sure; whatever.

And then arrives

An alternate view

To an optimistic few.

And a rosier future

Prevails.

As autumn brings a withering reminder

Of thoughtless, irretrievable syllables

This new Ship sails

To sites and sounds unknown.

A few have grown

And risen above the moan

Of grieving masses.

Life as must, moves on.

by Lee Broom

 

Follow The Leader

3 18 14 CRUMBS CIA Alasaka

Follow The Leader

 

The best style is the style you don’t notice. Somerset Maugham

 

Follow the Leader,

A popular game

Better than anything known.

 

A Daisy Chain

Which leads to what?

A dull edge; to be honed.

 

Forget The Leader

Withdraw your Knife

And check its blade,

How keen?

 

How reliable?

Will it part

The Rarest from The Mean?

 

Now, to its sheath

Replace its Quick

Decisive, well honed Edge

 

And trust it, yes

To separate

The Morsel from the Bone.

Lee_Broom
Lee Broom

MY SHOES DON’T MATCH

lee_broom

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointy toe

The other a moc

I noticed as I sat down.

(I remembered a time
In Pershing Square
An orator holding his own
“The end is nigh
Beware my friends
Repent before heading Home”)

(Is he right) I wondered

My shoes don’t match

I’d found them a moment ago

I repented not

(They were warm and snug
I left them on my toes.)

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointed toe

The other a moc

Each slipped over

A woolen sock

The time was passing

Tickety tock

A smile replacing a frown;

I have another pair just like these

And they are my very own.

 

 

MY SHOES DON’T MATCH

lee_broom

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointy toe

The other a moc

I noticed as I sat down.

(I remembered a time
In Pershing Square
An orator holding his own
“The end is nigh
Beware my friends
Repent before heading Home”)

(Is he right) I wondered

My shoes don’t match

I’d found them a moment ago

I repented not

(They were warm and snug
I left them on my toes.)

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointed toe

The other a moc

Each slipped over

A woolen sock

The time was passing

Tickety tock

A smile replacing a frown;

I have another pair just like these

And they are my very own.