Showing posts with label Disturbance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Disturbance. Show all posts

12 September 2013

Fate and Destiny Do Lunch



“Glad you could meet me,
it always works out just how I’ve planned!”
“Oh really? What makes you think
my wish is your command?”

“Why do you think they call me Fate?
I knew you’d be here… and you wouldn’t be late!”
“You don’t control me, no how, no way –
I’ve a mind of my own! I still have a say!”

“I’m not so sure, if I must sound defeatist!”
“Go to hell, you overbearing elitist!”
They sit and stew, as that’s my hunch,
the way it goes when these two meet for lunch!

The waiter arrives, with menus he stands,
but Fate waves him off with a sweep of his hand.
“I’ve already ordered and I know what she’ll have.
She’ll eat the veal (she loves baby calves)”

“You see”, he explains, “I’m planned by divinity,
don’t question my motives, they’re from my mythology!”
Destiny smiled. “Excuse me, nature calls”
and she headed off for one of the stalls.

Fate sat there sipping his drink and awaiting his friend,
a relationship that was a dead end!
They weren’t really connected as far as he knew,
as through the front window a transit bus flew.

There lays the late Fate, now in celestial unity,
since Destiny influenced a great opportunity.
Fate met his fate, his appointment with Destiny,
cards fall into place through a deal of humanity

Now a table for one, but what the heck,
she didn’t even mind kiting the check!


06 September 2013

Personal Affront

You look to hurt a trusting soul,
going off half crazed into your tirade.
The accusations that you've made
cut deeply, where no healing can be
affected. Words. They hurt; they heal
and they steal any dignity I may have
had left. Now in shame, I realize
I had allowed you to sully
my reputation; my name. Take your attack
back before I take this personally.


© JPW 2013

Poetic Asides by Robert Lee Brewer - Prompt # 235 - "Front" poem

04 September 2013

Storm Front

Embattled and laid to waste.
Clouds glower and engulf.
It is enough that the winds
change, as winds of change do.
White flags torn and tattered,
no surrender ever ends
the conflict once it sidesteps resolution.
In love's revolution bastard dictators fail.
Rumbles and electric crashes,
flashes of destruction; incendiary bombs
begun as a storm front.

Batten down the hatches;
there’s no end in sight.


© JPW 2013

Poetic Asides by Robert Lee Brewer - Prompt # 235 - "Front" poem