HUMANITY, n. The human race, collectively, exclusive of the anthropoid poets.
-Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary
He is a touchy-feely versifier,
Who won't consider anything mundane,
He'll rave about some urge and solar fire,
About being cosmically insane.
He won't adopt a side or a position,
For in his mind, he's beyond it all-
He uses lofty words as ammunition
To turn your minds into pink fuzzy balls.
He'll lift you up towards his fluffy clouds,
Where you'll find his version of the truth-
Beyond mundane conclusions and self-doubts,
Beyond the barroom regulars uncouth.
And you may wonder why you'd rather follow
His intricate and foolish point of view,
Where everything is beautifully hollow,
Where there's nothing sensible or new.
But he'll take away your doubts and frowns
With comfort of his world-erasing joy,
For, deep within, you'll find his inner clown,
Who entertains each little girl and boy.
November 15,2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant first line, a bit weak last line. All good inbetween though! 9 from smiling at ya Tai