I’m missing each day
Looking over my shoulder.
Missing in every way
Tired and much older.
Not so amused.
Dazed and confused.
Why am I looking?
Looking way out ahead.
There’s nothing out there.
It’s here in my head.
I am not amused.
Just dazed and confused.
If my mind isn’t here
Am I not present?
And where is the here?
Life seems not so pleasant.
Am I amused?
No; dazed and confused.
It’s passing me by
And nothing is clear
There’s only today
The blur is the fear.
I was once amused.
Now just dazed and confused.
No presence of mind
And fearing the worst
Not living at all.
It must be a curse.
I’m sure not amused.
Still dazed and confused.
Now mindful again.
Eyes no longer blind.
The fog starts to lift.
Clear focus of mind.
Not amused for a while.
Just dazed and confused.
When we were young and life was fun,
We didn’t care, we had no clue.
What was there for us to learn,
In those days before we knew?
Soon we were warned about Big G.
Of mortal sin we lived in fear.
JC would save us from our woes.
The Holy Ghost may not appear.
Then came a man with sparkling eyes,
With silver tongue and many lies.
But you saw through his fake disguise,
And tales of how to live and die.
We searched for meaning of some kind.
Egoless with no false pride.
We left our worldly goods behind,
And travelled far and often wide.
We lazed on islands of the East,
And filled our lungs with pristine air.
We gorged ourselves on nature’s feast,
And other stuff we should not dare.
When the well it did run dry
We had not found the Holy Grail.
Back to the start we had to fly
But never thought that we did fail.
We worked and strove in boring ways,
To fill the pot again and dream
Of soon, when we would spend more days,
Wandering again, perchance to dream.
So this is life’s eternal search.
Back and forth we go and come.
The only one we have to teach,
Is our self, that life is fun.
I weaved on gently through Phangna.
Its forests lush, its air cool steel.
When soon it seemed and not so far,
How small did I then surely feel;
As overpowered by limestone cliffs,
The sky was filled with monoliths.
If you’re having suckling pig this Christmas,
Spare piggy a thought.
He may taste better stuffed than you,
But his life is very short.
Lucky little piggy.
Lucky little swine.
Sage and onion up your arse.
Sealing wax up mine.
Like a new leaf to the tree we cling, then slowly grow and learn of life. Enduring woes soon grind us down and, grudging, we accept the hand we’re dealt.
The struggle now is over;
The futility is clear;
The tree of life abandons us;
Our grip is one of fear.
Cast off now, we succumb
And float upon the wind.
This is the freedom we strove for.
The truth we can’t rescind.