Bravado Is A Mask

February 12, 1996

You've got the world made

While I listen to your gasconade -

Ranting and raving like you just got

paid.

© 1996 Jarrod C. Lacy

******

　

Carbon
January 21, 1999

Tonight, I saw a soft, light band encirling a crescent
moon, and I felt so comfortable, so safe.

The temperature about the air, a fair 68, gave me kindly
enough room to foster my limbless security.
On my way to my mother's house, walking, I thought of
the current times and the evening's assortment of
particulars.
I engaged in a one-sided conversation with my tacit
friend, the moderate wind, who loves to listen.
I griped about the night, its unfair treatment; its
strength of inalienable rights straddling to be
fully a part of vision.
"Overrated days are only plain, bright sheets anyway," I thought.
"Due to be shadowed and dirtied eventually."
Then I sang night a song in secret and wished blessings
while she keeps it.
That moment sprayed no stars that carried any memory's
distinction, though they were hovering, my decline was
a loveable loon of obfuscation.
It was a tingling time more formittable than rhyme.
An effective fade as I walked and thought as I obeyed
my line, while at my mother's door, the night was
fine.

© 1999 Jarrod C. Lacy

　

******

Despair

December 4, 2000

Despair is a fear with fangs that's turbulence in flight,

and wrinkles the brow too irrationally, handing hearts

to plight.

Whatever the true material that permits any here a stay

is drained vampirically, quickly and merely washed away.

© 2000 Jarrod C. Lacy

******

Trouble-free


6/15/03

Little Wake and Little Sake,

Two who rallied

for fun.

Wake cupped the snowball's of winter,

but Sake lorded over the sun.

Never opposers of thrills and sensations,

Wake's song, a joy prone to silence,

but Sake did more than hum.

They introduced each other,

And played

beautifully acoustic.

One took to the melody;

the other primped to music.

© 2003 Jarrod C. Lacy