Dave SmithWhite Poems

I feel the heat of Summer coming, like a beating drum.
The warming air is rising under plumes of alpine gum.
When through the gloom, the future looms;
The prophets are struck dumb.
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They are saying in the pueblo,
Señor Zorro rides again.
Talking treason with their dominoes,
The gossip of old men.
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Just believe one stupid thing,
And you'll believe another.
Ignorance is its' own reward,
And to torture it is mother.
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Do I still want to be, somebody famous,
Still want a name, as a somebody known?
So I still need to be, a little more focused,
A little less caustic, to the seeds I have sown.
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It's Christmas Eve in Tel Aviv;
But I remain anon.
I gnash my teeth a trifle peeved,
With all my dreams long gone.
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We're drowning in the ocean.
Between the waves we slide.
Our lives flash by before us,
Like the rush of suicide.
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They were not a civilized race:
Our ancestors, who made this place.
Greed and avarice informed their ways;
In pursuit of lucre, they spent their days.
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From frying pan, to the state of man;
To skate on oil, and frieth.
If some are much too big to foil,
Who can tell that to Goliath?
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I got a blog the other day,
But it came from a different place.
It claimed to be from the son of god,
Who lived in outer space!
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Take off your hat! Off with them coats!
You can't be too formal when sowing your oats.
Take off your hat! Take off your shoes.
Give me a smoke and I'll break out the booze.
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