Max Richard

Rookie (Hawkesbury Ont)

An Ideas Man


I'm lost they say
Out of focus they told me
Convinced slaves educating me on freedom
Slaves who can't even find the empathy
The mental capacity to understand
The bum

The unlucky
I call them
The lazy
Is their etiquette
The costly
Is their status

I don't believe in God
I believe in Luck
There are four entities in my world
Four lines of life that runs
For the most part
Parallel to each other

The lines are
Time
Resource
Energy and
Passion

Some have resources
But no time or energy to spend it wisely

Some have time
But not no energy or resources to give it value

Some have energy
But no time or resources to burn it effectively

With years going by
Our lines get thinner and thinner
That lucky break comes when
Something or someone
Comes along and makes two of those cross
Making them wider, stronger

Some pricks in nice cars
And fancy suits will tell you
That it's all about hard work
But it's a lie
We all need a break

Passion is what keeps those lines strong
Passion is that dim light atop
The deep, damp, cold
Hole you're passed out in

Passion will make you get up
It will make you crawl out
Fingernails falling
Fingertip bleeding
Bone showing

For no luck will come in that hole
Luck resides in warm light
It is a wind that blows at a certain moment
It needs to be caught
The only thing the hole can catch
Is you

I find my passion in alcohol and good company
Give me a chair
A kitchen table
A few good friends
A pint of bourbon
And I will light up like northern skies in a cloudless night

Ideas and stories will emanate from my chest
They will crawl up my spine like a snake
Its prey, my mind
Once there, they will materialize

I am a bum
For that sweet lucky breeze hasn't yet touch my cheek
But that dark hole where I once made my home
Is now covered by a large, heavy indestructible rock
I stand upon it with all my weight
So no whoresons will dare move it

That rock
The cerberus at the gates of my despair
I named it Henry
I am an ideas man
But above all
I am free

Submitted: Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 20, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

My son's name is Henry

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