PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Feeling blue thru the recurring notion of time sliding into continuum.  Gotta figger how to get out of this rut but I feeling like a rag doll tossed about; a puppet on a string.  The Bland Machine is pulling the strings of my lifeline.  The factory beckons me like a leper beseeching a saint.  A fool I am, I respond and move closer and feel the claws sink through my flesh.  Bloody, I yet vow to continue. Silhouette figures of hope dance thru the clouds.  I watch them flutter to flamenco skipping over the hurdles.  I gallop and trot along the path; a determined man.  To the black fluorescent lights, I leave only a gold watch.  “Be Gone!” they threaten.  I just laugh knowing that they’ll be pissed off.  Token gestures of encouragement; snicker behind my back; realizing that the weight must fall upon my own shoulders.  I walk out in the rain and feel the drops beat upon my brow.  In Dylanesque fashion, I hop-scotch across two states and wonder where the Hell I am going.  Or is it Hell I’m going to?  Ditto duplicates of compensation with insurance company.  I just say “fuck it all then; we’ll start this whole damn thing all over again.” This time we’re building it all from scratch.