BOG-QUAG  (1983, Laguna Beach, California)

bogged in life s
myriad quags  
what fate  
this disconnected cog  
intently hounded  
by paper dogs  
lost at odds  
in social fogs  
distortia  
all around me  
  
wave after wave  
of such mazes  
amaze me  
downtrodden in life  
not even  
the grave s free  
time  
life s fickle friend  
will tease  
taunt  
and trample me  
to the end  
such an annoying  
bitter wind  
what lessons  
does it send  
to either freeze  
or free me  
   
so early  
torn apart  
relentless tearings  
worn  scarred heart  
beating  bleeding  
in the dark  
and yet it s 
tough hide still holds  
some hopeful spark  
at least so far  
to continue  
on  
   
life s smiles  
and tears  
have come  
and gone  
different for each  
and yet  
we all sing  
a similar song  
through which  
our tortures  
Mand joys  
balanced  
have shown  
that perhaps  
the best  
is still yet   I
to come  
   
such hope  
the meek  
all seek  
to hold  
against the gloom  
of what  
they ve lived
of what  
their told  
and though  
the reaper s scythe  
is cold  
it s slice  
of life  
reveals such gold  
just waiting  
to be discovered  
lived and enjoyed  
before then  
   
for different reasons  
we attain  
our seasons  
spring our warmths  
and loose  
our snows  
yet summer s beauty  
is not accepted  
for very long  
as much too soon  
autumn comes  
to quickly judge  
it s treasoned soul  
for our nature s needs to feed  
it s natural hungers  
is a greater climate  
assigned to us all  
beyond the choice  
and forced
false control  
of our own
free will s
egoic minds
alone