David Whalen Poems

I Mighta Been a tad snookered

I remember you dimly
Through the fog of Jack Daniels
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Lost in the bayou!
It was funny at first
To an adventure lovin’ youngen
This wouldn’t be the worst
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Could you just imagine
the lack of imagination
If men had to buy presents
And pretty them up with decorations
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You’ll always be short of something
You’ll always be needin’ this or that

You’ll always be yearnin’ for what you’re not earning
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How will it end?
With the smell of brimstone?

Will it end in great gatherings,
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Same old clothes, different style
Same old hair with a different do
Same but different all the while
Same old substance, through and through
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More On Angels

ever thought of Angels
as everyday people?
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I’m always where… I’m sposed to be
Always doin’ what I’m sposed to be doin’

Never lookin’ where… I shouldn’t be lookin
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I’m goin’ to tell this story to ye, if ye can keep it a hush
Since I canna’ be telling’ me friends
Twas the Saturday past, I drank a wee too much
Before me usual trek home thru’ the glens
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Before our very eyes…

Like helium balloons
Ideas imbued with passion rise
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