Something

A weird poem I made up by staring at the outside...

Two clocks are never accurate

One ticks a half second

Before the other.

 

Two things...

An orange cat

An orange pig.

They stand side by side.

How? How did I notice that?

 

Rain patters outside

It isn't accurate, either.

It patters quickly

Then slowly.

 

Envelopes for money

Money for envelopes

Post-its

Red and yellow and pink.

 

There's a hum of life outside

Rain, trees, and bushes.

Us humanity, trapped inside

No better than the orange pig or cat.

 

The window stands between us.

Are we scared? Scared of a simple rain?

So scared we cannot go out?

So scared we can only watch the orange cat clock tick?

 

Us humanity babbling nonsense

So strong, we are, able to build towers and buildings!

So scared of a simple rain?

 

Mankind's imitation of nature is pathetic.

We place plastic trees

Curtains embroidered with leaves

Perhaps they have their air of beauty

But they never can compare to the ones outside.

 

Money for envelopes

Envelopes for money.

They are something.

Vague, nothing matters much.

So oblivious, we are, mankind!

 

Post-its, red and yellow.

Made from man too.

But as the scientists say...

We have only discovered

A miniscule amount of the ocean

 

Perhaps only five percent out of a hundred.

Nature's magic

It never ends.

 

Nature isn't perfect

Such as the rain outside.

See? It pours strongly now...

But now it ceases.

Never take the assumption

That mankind and nature are perfect.

 

Both are not

Though they both try.

Us man, we shall never be perfect.

But nature can be as close to perfect as ever.

 

Morning's magic starts.

The rain stops.

There's no sun, but there will be.

A possibility.

 

Perhaps only five percent out of a hundred.

Nature's magic.

It never ends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

Oooh! I like this one! It flows in a whimsical, spur of the moment style. I love the allusions that are drawn and the realities that are painted upon the canvas of the mind as the window panes sheild us from the rains. Rain... a wet mold building substance that was outlawed upon the sun cities of the southern rays for good reason... it will eventually lead to prunes and raisins... Or sayeth the blind goose that wander past the ticking clock at a half past a whiskers twitch.

So true that Nature's magic is a never ending flow of amazement and amusement, in terms of a pondering of all things beating upon the heart soul of the planet whole. Perhaps some day we shall not is all, but that might just be a bore. So I think in the end, perhaps the best option would be to continue to scribe our inks of dripping drinks and let Nature have it's way upon the door of our day.

Wonderful and Amazing Ink! Much enjoyed reading and being inspired by it! =)
Aaron - Wolfwind

[Lone Wolf]

thanks so much, aaron. I find it funny we're subscribed to each other...haha.
wonderful poetic response, too!