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“We make out of the
quarrel with others,
rhetoric,
but of the quarrel
with ourselves,
poetry.”
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~ William Butler Yeats
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Elfje:
.
Who
does not
quarrel with themselves
could have, should have
maybe
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Haiku:
.
why must I grow up
seasons of our discontent
choices, choices, luck
.
.
.
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Poem: is there a reason
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is there a reason, is there a rhyme
life moves on in spite of me
did I, could I, have missed my prime
did I learn nothing on my father’s knee.
growing old is not an option
acting mature is a matter of opinion
steadily we rely more upon the naproxen
the hot toddy and a nap our best companion
been there, done that
I just can’t remember where or when
reduced to the trivial chitchat
the weather is the common denominator for all men
look in the mirror and have a good laugh
don’t take yourself so damn serious
a giggle a day will cut the aging in half
only God can explain the mysterious
Today is the only day we have to live
enjoy it on the positive, laughable side
try your hardest to do better than just survive
sleep well my friend, saying I tried, I tried. . .
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ME and the Boss
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ME and the Boss Poetry 