Parade of Souls

I stumble to make sense of senses
senseless course
perceptions abstract
does a semblance
this order take?

my intent to stand off to one side
to watch the procession go
where do they go?
shall I follow?

they seem to celebrate
they march as the soldier
this celebration, symptom
or cure?

I am no doctor of reputable fame
no prognosis I make
one moment I know
the next I wonder

this bemused cycle arrests
it holds my course to ponder
no station yet I hold
does this aid or impede?

they march and the crowd cheers
I look to see whence they came
still more come
I look to see their destiny
they march on in front of me

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© January 3, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

Drop it

step forward drop off
the edge ends here
you'll never cross it
to fall is doom

you believe. it's to scoff
deny what is dear
lest you'll be unfit
we'll ready your tomb

you'll stay where you are
you are who you're not
it's not about you
you are who we've said

you shan't vary far
you'll put your neck in the knot
you try to go through
you'll end up dead

Written by Scott Schoffstall

© December 30, 2010

all rights reserved

Poetic Sojourn

Karma Collisions

the empty hour
turning sour
go glower
in prison tower
it's now or
never
sever the clever
don't matter whatever
distress
confess this mess
redress
duress
throw out the haze
the daze
of this maze
fill the page
full of rage
you find it sage?
to wit that writ
admit bullshit
cesspit!
if we we bleed
we seed
the need
do the deed
never heed
the read
it's greed
mislead
chicken feed
no center of gravity
within our depravity
kick back the flack
our brains they hack
it's worse than crack
drop dead
from dread of red
you'd rather be dead?
already been said
not gonna reprise ya
anesthesia amnesia
will seize ya
no one will please ya
until the truth frees ya

Written by Scott Schoffstall

© December 23, 2010

all rights reserved

Poetic Sojourn

Rain

Puddles, rain collects
Tears from a despondent god
Drinking the silky silence of a fear
That is out of my reach and into your hands
My hands cup around the drops
And time stirs with the bitter
Then falls thru the cracks in my hands
Trickles past my parched lips
To lay fallow in my sentient bowels
I don't pretend to understand
Anything about this life, about what it's like to be a god
But there's something about drinking raindrops
That makes me realize, I know all I need to know
I'm wet now, soaked thru, bone-drenched
Saliferous flow irrigating the soul
Nourishing the movement for where it needs to grow
Here alone springs a garden from tears

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© December 1, 2010
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn