Funny Wasteland
Some new poetry :)
The softest kiss you,
the gentlest rain,
a flap of comforter that flops over my shoulder twenty minutes later.
The choice to be quiet,
the resemblance of a shadow,
and the angel blows a feather breeze across my tense skin.
A tired day,
a weary night,
raindrops.
Slashed by a violent motorcycle engine.
I am disturbed.
The fucking bastard, I think, and my serenity is now lost upon the existence of a violent motorcycle engine. I'll break that bastard in half, I swear.
Mankind's creations are evil, evil indeed; evil, and noisy. They produce progress, and destruction.
God's produce harmony, and serenitiy.
I throw the flap over my ear again, and pray for the bastard to stop what he is doing.
He does not.
A tired day,
a weary night,
a drugged monster.
The choice to be quiet,
shattered.
The gentlest rain,
shit upon.
But, alas to the mad motorcyclist, what do I hear?
A drowning flood of storm! Oceans of rain, and heavy peals of thunder come from seeming "nowhere",
and now the engines are gone, with their gnashings of teeth, and petty flatulences.
I howl, and laugh, for I know that I would much rather frolic in God's flood rather than be subjected to man's renegade sounds of misbehavior.
Still howling, I pull the flap furthermore over my head, and drift to sleep for a while.
Goodbye, motorcycle engine man! Goodbye, for now, anyways.
God is so good.