THE WORLD IS… : A POEM
What is the world? What is this earth we inhabit? Who are we who are fortunate enough to inhabit it? I don’t know and I don’t think you know either. We’re all figuring it out but it seems to me those who think they have it figured out the most are often the furthest away from understanding shit. There’s people who claim to own parts of the earth, shit… I lived in Los Angeles and there’s people out there who believe they own the damn ocean. Swear to God they say the beaches are private, some will charge you to step foot on their patch of beach others won’t let you on at all. Ain’t that some bullshit? I suppose money talks and I’m not saying it wouldn’t be nice to have some but I fear it sometimes costs too much, not that I ever had much but when my pockets have been full they’ve been shared. I’d rather rather die with my hands open than my fists clenched tight. If I ever buy a beach which is highly unlikely I’d open her up for everyone, invite y’all down and share the land with all the people because as Woody Guthrie said This land was made for you and me and as Woody Guthrie wrote and Arlo Guthrie sung Nobody living can ever stop me, as I go walking my freedom highway, Nobody living, can make me turn back, This land was made for you and me.
THE WORLD IS
The world is cold
Like a forgotten story I was told
If I may be bold
I’d say the world promises gold
Which doesn’t arrive till we’re all too old
The world is cruel
Like a three man duel
With one man left looking a fool
Living under a rich man’s rule
While I carry his bags like some kind of mule
The world is crass
Like another pedophile attending mass
A goddamn snake in the grass
Pretend people parading as they pass
My honesty turned me into an ass
The world is cryptic
Like a leaf is elliptic
Don’t mean to nitpick
Need to stop the bleeding like a styptic
The only future appears apocalyptic
The world is crazy
Like a kids cartoon directed by Scorsese
My memory is hazy
My dancing feet have grown lazy
But I want to dance till I’m finally pushing daisies
The world is chaos
Like spreading moss
A coin that won’t toss
Some office job without a boss
The Bible if it never had a cross
The world is clear
Like headlights and a deer
Collecting all the fallen tears
Keeping my distance trying to stay near
The world is full of bravery and fear
