There's Always an Ass on the Road

(Photo courtesy of Wikicommons)

It never fails.

You’re riding on rails

sailing down the road

in a trail of dust that you must be

breaking the sound barrier -

a miles harrier. Then you see it.

Could it be what you’re thinking?

Your eyes start blinking and it sinks in.

There’s an ass on the road. There’s ALWAYS

an ass on the road. Idiots come up quickly behind you

to sickly remind you that you’re in the way.

But an ass on the road makes you frown,

they’re only there to slow you down.

It never fails. It’ll haw and bray and hold you up

all day. There’s always an ass on the road.

© JPW – 2013

WE WRITE POEMS – Prompt # 177: The Road

Poets United - Poets Pantry #170

The Grand Illusion

"So if you think your life is complete confusion 

Because you never win the game

Just remember that it's a Grand illusion

And deep inside we're all the same." ~Dennis DeYoung - Styx

For better or worse, we are what we are.
We can delude ourselves that we stand above the rest,
but our chests all hold the same heart;
from our start to the end, if it continues, so do we.
It isn't easy to be something we weren't meant to,
hell bent on superiority, but we all fall in the minority -
the people left behind to struggle to find the true meaning.
Existence with resistance is not living,
it is giving us a false sense of power, and it will
devour our spirit. Not by bread or the thoughts in his head
does man live. It is in giving each other a fair shake
that we take the most from how we live. No intrusion;
no Grand Illusion. Only a "family" conjoined.
A Grand Infusion of life!

© JPW - 2013

Poetic Asides by Robert Lee Brewer - Prompt #237 Illusions 

Mirage

Your eyes are deceiving you
and your heart believes that you
are seeing what it wants you to!

It is her that you see, a vision
in misty faded wisps. You envision
beauty with beholding eyes, indecision

fills your mind, your pulse races
and your can swear her faces is
hidden in remarkable places.

You blame the lateness of night,
you blame your meal, the light
and try as hard as you might,

you cannot erase her.
You cannot replace her
and God forbid you deface her 

memory. You could swear she is there,
her perfume, the smell of her hair
a gentle hand gracing your shoulder to repair

the loss you feel. It seems so real
and you thought you could deal
with it, but you continue to feel

her presence near.
She is right here,
and you’re not clear

if you want this mirage to stop haunting 
you, the task of waiting till mourning is daunting. 
You reach to touch what is not there, leaving you wanting.

© JPW - 2013

Poetic Asides by Robert Lee Brewer - Prompt #237 Illusions

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #168

I'm Not Here

Now you see me.
This sleight of hand demands
that I distract you so you
can’t see what matters,
my patter will lead you;
deceive you! Your focus
on my hocus pocus is key.
But, it’s me who holds the magic
and it is tragic that I can control
your very soul! Watch my hands
and you’ll understand. Now you see
me; now you don’t! My abracadabra
makes me invisible; a great illusion!

© JPW - 2013

Poetic Asides by Robert Lee Brewer - Prompt #237 Illusions