Life Is Not A Ploy

Though there would be

immediate disagreement in one,

quiet satisfaction in another,

in the final hour,

one would realize if they did stop

to glance,

a world beyond their own device,

would, might

still exist,

and in that social fabric ignored,

a pain,

a fighting soul

whose rapture not found

might emulate

the sorrowful nature

of a discompassionate ploy.

 

Yes, simply a game,

beyond the reality of our terms,

defined by the human condition,

a banter of

despondent disregard

favors

only the regarded one …

or two, or three, or miles of more,

so difficult it is to understand

the lemings at my door.

Mansion Envy

Costa-Rica-Rain-Forest-mansion

I wonder about that world carved into the wild

Down the street and tucked off the avenue

Backed into a shallow grave

Where the bricks and mortar rise

Ominous

The landscape stretching beyond the forest

Where the trees and natural growth were stripped away

New seedlings forced to convey an image

A gardener’s responsibility now

Certainly not yours, whose identity you might be today

Given the nature of such surroundings

I’ll only imagine you were never meant to stay

Yet now an after thought

Lives in your dream home.

When we drive by we wonder out loud sometimes

Who might occupy this vast acreage?

With security shades nearby the pool and recreational rambler

The windows are all rather sheltered

With drawn fabrics coiffed to internalize a world

Unlike my own

Far removed from my daily concerns

~

I do wonder though

About your typical day

Waking, eating, smelling, living, walking, tasting, releasing

Seems though the grounds are untouchable

If I were to walk up to you

Might my fingertips reach out to: interact?

With the bare realities of the human condition

How different are we all in our mechanical persona

While around us other lives seek shelter from the wild.