free verse

A poem of Masters II

Truth bleeds through the many characterizations.
With every revelation – perspective, point of view.
But sadness continues through the hard, cold Spoon River.
And the small-town remnant gain insight.
But for what to realize there is no hope.
No hope? Alas, what truth can these poems bring?
But of tyranny of a banker, judge, or harlot?
But what of the happy ending?
Should there not be one?

free verse

A poem of Masters

Tormented until the end, this man –
Who tried to be Whitman, Homer or Faulkner.
But it was Frost who outshined him,
And buried Masters on his own Hill.
Among his own kind -- he judged and condemned.
Must have thought he was better.
But two wives he went through,
Hurting with a touch of masochist,
Leaving a son who will never forget.
But the clack, clack, clack,
Of the passersby speak,
Telling him clearly there’s only crickets.

Happy New Year

Nothing says "Happy New Year" like beating on a set of electronically simulated drums. I wasn't very good at it. I'm not sure if that's because the drums weren't calibrated to the TV or what. But no matter. It was fun regardless.

I don't really have any new year's resolutions. But I will tell you what. I am on a mission to move out of my parent's house. Not that I don't like living at home...it's just time. I'm pretty sure any one of my friends would agree. ;)

Now for some thoughts for the day:

1) I've got the best of both worlds!

2) Sweet niblets!

3) I've been watching too much Hannah Montana?

4) Deep Impact is now a classic.

5) So is Men in Black

6) Did nothing productive. My to-do list is so long.

7) Why is House crazy? I feel tricked.

8) I watched a lot of TV today.

9) I read, too. I like Thomas Rhodes. Even if he's some kind of villain.

the end