We Lose

Because we must.

We fight we lose but still we fight
We have to try to live (to try)
The victor is the one who can
Take losing without alibi

For what is winning in the end?
Defeat’s the fate that we’ve been cast;
The brief illusion we have power
Is always shattered

My Poetic Year

A year of trial and error.

For me, it’s been a year of trial and error;
To try to write three poems every day
On average. And so I’ve been the preparer
Of one to five of these things, come what may.

The plan had been to stop these when the years ends;
A plan that I still have, for now I find
That words chase after me, and will not leave me;
That poetry afflicts by waking mind.

One month ago I saw this as a nuisance –
To daily convert feelings into scrawl –
But I now I find, I think that I will miss it
I might just be a writer
After all


= = = = =

(The idea for this post courtesy of the Daily Post’s “Daily Prompt“)

The World of Coca-Cola

Memories of their grandfather…

Their grandfather, he worked for Coke
And he had a selection
Of Coke memorabilia that
Became his prize collection

Of red and white with green bottles
Of merry Santa Claus;
Which, seeing now, reminds them of
The childhood world
That was



First reading, he had to take stock of himself…

First reading, he had to take stock of himself:

He’s not the steady, industrious type
He’s not the grasping, ambitious type
And cowardice is a flaw —
But smart he was always supposed to be
And so he inferred, as he read, that was He —
He was a Ravenclaw

Then he looked again at the end of the books:

That he would be a loyal to all his friends
But he could still strive for his personal ends
And try to be brave at that —
So maybe the Ravenclaw part of He
Is good, but not all that he can be
For he is more
Than that

Opp, Alabama

It’s on the map.

New York? Anybody can make it up there!
To prove: Google gave me a list
Of famous New Yorkers so awfully long
The deduction’s hard to resist

That half of the people there go on to fame.
So making it there’s not that great:
But making it somewhere off track and obscure
Now that, I think, carries some weight.

Take Opp, Alabama, for instance. It seems
Nobody well-known is from there:
I’d say, if you’re famous in Rattlesnake-ville
You could make it most anywhere

Rattlesnake Rodeo


Beautiful Mountain

Their hearts were full.

They went to the Beautiful Mountain
And their hearts were full and blessed;
The stood by the Lonely Pine and thought
It was time to divest

Of all the heavy baggage they
Had carried on thus far;
As the sun set on the horizon
And they reached
The evening