Haikus 31/07/12
Making corrections
Not sure if they’re the right ones
Not sure it matters
#
Sugar and acid
Forms a snake of carbon foam
Great to impress kids
#
Black crude forms in flask
Moves with big-ass magnet
I love chemistry
#
Making corrections
Not sure if they’re the right ones
Not sure it matters
#
Sugar and acid
Forms a snake of carbon foam
Great to impress kids
#
Black crude forms in flask
Moves with big-ass magnet
I love chemistry
#
Eyes seeing
Eyes wanting
Eyes desiring
Eyes needing
Eyes following
Eyes loving
But only the eyes
The rest crippled by shyness
The rest unable to even speak
Only frustration
Only torment
Only the eyes
Line after line after line
Senseless drivel
Grade A bullshit
No rhyme, no reason
Just there ‘because’
So that the form can be adhered to
The bureaucrats pleased
The mountains of paperwork maintained
The true purpose, the eventual meaning
Lost, buried,
Only to be seen if examined closely
Studied carefully
And with luck, so much luck
By the favour of the gods
Spotted
So that it was all not in vain
And the cycle can repeat again
Injustice fills the world
Injustices of nature
And of society
From the svelte woman who seemingly can eat whatever she wants
To the banker who gets a bonus after all investments fail
The rich man with a direct line to the president
The poor man who cannot even dream of a vote
Injustice an impossible mountain
Too high to even see the top
But there are ways around
Ways to make the world work as it should
Ways to make things better, fairer
Maybe not perfect, but that was never going to happen
Because there is injustice fills the world
But that doesn’t mean you have to take it lying down.
There once was a fella called Joe
Whom all of the people would know
When he moved a few feet
Someone else he would greet
So moveing around was quite slow
Your words are not my own
Yet I use them
To confirm my ideals
Make my arguments
State my views
It matters not what was the true meaning
Only what I take from it
Grotesque distortion, inane misunderstanding
Part and parcel of the life of a piece
Cast off into the ether away from its creator
And their protection
Liable to be re-used and abused
With no redress or talk back
The muse of creation again defeated
In the grand battle against ignorance
Speaking constantly
Never making any sense
I shall hit him soon
#
Room is far to warm
Dropping into a deep sleep
Pen on head soon wakes
#
That’s a good question
Let me answer it for you
With big shiny graphs
It’s not the clothes, it’s the hangers
Wise words, well said
No matter how well dressed
How well-groomed
The truth comes out
The evil comes through
And taints the finest fabrics
And where good resides
Even the grubbiest, oldest cloth
Takes on an element of brilliance
Broadcasting the quality to the world