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made the top
by Charlie Morgandeath knocked; it wasn't for me.
i wiped my forehead of worry;
and it was dry, temporarily.
wet paint for who took my place.
you're in the top ten of the reasons
why i should faint or shrug my shoulders.
this life, this impending after-life
of which we await; we, ovules of matter
existing in this blanket of geologic time.
measuring in years what takes an eye-blink.
and we cry tears for those with no eyes.
bawl for those without ears,
swallow for those with no mouth.
we laugh only on saturdays. seems safer that way.
still, rumblers blame me for starting the fight.
and all i did was watch daytime television. 03/26/2011 Posted on 03/26/2011
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 03/26/11 at 11:00 PM That's what I mean. When I exclaim about Charlie's genius. How this comes from watching afternoon television... it amazes me. Your poem wipes the dribble of drool from below my mouth - born of wonder. I don't know anyone who gets up off his ass so consistently as you - to make art from the ordinary. Thanks for the little jolt, Charlie. You wake me up. Blessings and peace, Brother. |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/26/11 at 11:44 PM Charlie, for every eye-blink left I might have, for every stray tear (and they all seem stray, lately), for every catch-of-breath in what I think could be a crying jag, I hope to rumble with the best. And I hope you'll take me up on that, sweet man. |
| Posted by James Blaylock on 03/27/11 at 07:13 AM Bravo! What an awesome beinning! And the rest easily followed suit into such wondrous glory.
I sometimes find myself writing as I have the almighty T.V. humming along in the background. And at times something catches my ear/mind and then I'm off like the hurried dogs on race day!
We find our muses in the oddist places I must say. But if we keep them under our hat then we are simply golden. lol |
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