Published: 18 January 2025

Let’s fight to the death

I’m seizing the moment.
Not because the Romans told me to.
Because the moment is trying to seize me.

I must resist. There’s no alternative.
I’m back against the wall.
The wall keeps moving.
Creeping away from me and the fight.
So much for the strategic advantage of cowardice.

Some people have a bucket list. I have a barcode
pinned to my breast because I keep forgetting
what I want in the store of life.
The barcode says, “If found, return to shelf.”

People say the road rises up to greet you.
Others say it slaps you in the face and leaves
a dotted line that reads, “Pass. Any time.”

The fact is, you’ll always meet people running
in the opposite direction and everyone will say
the same thing, “Who’s chasing you?”

People don’t like beggars, or salespeople,
but they idolize billionaires who are skilled at both.
Go figure.

If life is tailor made for you, it’s a cheap suit
for others. In my case, the shoes are cheap as well.
It’s obvious the holes are not part of the design.

Holes a result of too much wear and tear
as might be found in my convictions,
my dreams, my poems,
that often start with the bang
of a great title and end with a whimper.

The truth is you keep fighting,
right to the end, when you say
to yourself, “I think I might win,”
and in fact, you do.

More Poetry:

Bear

My family often call me a bear.
Perhaps it’s my grumpy nature.
I’m known to roar if startled,
behave badly if woken abruptly.

Mansion of Joy

The world needs comedians,
comedians need people who laugh,
the comedians have Arlen.

A boy with a big laugh,
to fill a hall, a building, to fill the world

blue is blue

is there not enough glow
not enough bleeding heart?
not enough gold shows through?
blue is blue
blue is blue

sounds like the waiting room before an acid trip

A tremulous place of anticipation and dread,
suspicion the colours are changing, are they changing?
What is the sound of a silent train arriving?
Apparently, I’m to depart. I’ve been informed
I have a ticket. I seem to have forgotten

written by AI

I asked Artificial Intelligence
to write a poem
in the style of Ward Maxwell.
It worked so well
I’m going to use it again.

a pinball am I

some people drift through life
others steam ahead, forge their destiny
I’m a pinball

Related

Bear

Bear

My family often call me a bear.
Perhaps it’s my grumpy nature.
I’m known to roar if startled,
behave badly if woken abruptly.

read more
Mansion of Joy

Mansion of Joy

The world needs comedians,
comedians need people who laugh,
the comedians have Arlen.

A boy with a big laugh,
to fill a hall, a building, to fill the world

read more

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