The Sense of Right Now

I'm weakened by
the demands of
a dependent generation
of people on TV
who drink from empty cups
of karmic dharma
and caramel dogma
sticky weather, a
slow autumn strangle
I yearn for
breathing room

I'm weakened
by
the comfortable underbelly
of a mild manic
depression.

4 comments:

the poeticist said...

Maybe I haven't followed your blog long enough to know you write poetry. Nevertheless, I love it. Great stuff.

Army said...

Why thank you, poeticist! You can find a few others I've shared under the side heading of "Stuff I've Claimed to have Created."

I need to write more in that form -- it's been neglected since I took up the blog.

Allie D. said...

I used to put the occasional poem on the Gouda blog. Maybe I need to get around to doing that again. Stupid blogs. They're ruining my life!!! :)

Pawlie Kokonuts said...

Army,
I think I will put up, paste in, or type out "Mowing the Last Lawn." (If I type it by hand, it will change. It will. It's impossible not to make one edit.) I'm tempted to put in some type of ownership or copyright notice I've seen people post. Maybe that vanity. Or wishful stealing.
pk
a.k.a. The Poeticist
The Haiku Cuckoo, et al.