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The Blog Bog
The Mag Rack
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Towards the Design of a Better "The"
The meaning you chase
is attached to a string.
Follow it if you must
as it pulls away along the street.
Watch out for the alley,
a philosophical dead end
where religion, science
and language collide.
with the weighted force
of misgivings and doubt,
leaving some sucker out cold,
and someone else with a wallet
which may not satisfy,
but will purchase sufficient distraction
until thought once more intrudes
into the humdrum of tooth and claw.
Joseph Farley____
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Playing with Dolls
The hand that takes yours
may be real,
or it may just be
another lump of flesh.
The path you are
guided down
may be the way
you want to go,
or another wrong turn
in a life with twists and bends,
that never gets you
to that place you imagined
during all that childhood
make believe.
So what. Go on. Take hold.
Feel that palm against your own.
Take the journey that is yours.
You still are the princess.
He still is the prince.
It's just that your palace and kingdom
are both fixer uppers,
and unlike in movies or fairy tales
your shit still smells.
Joseph Farley____
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Blue Nightmare
I can't keep
the promises
I made to God
or Man.
Water falling
from the moon
caught in a glass bowl.
No.
I can't keep this
either.
Let it go then,
poured on the floor
so puddles can spread
into dark streams.
I shall put out
the light,
cut this one bulb,
glass, wire, and all,
blinding the giant
staring down
at its tears.
Joseph Farley____
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For the red shirts
We with the red shirts know we will die.
It is our fate to be cameos, background players
in the stories of heroes.
The Captain and the Science Officer
will always survive
along with the characters ranked high in the ratings.
We accept our role. What else can we do?
Maybe in our next existence we will play the lead.
If this be our one and only performance
we must content ourselves with the small credit
on our tombstones among the acres of other walk ons,
and our ten seconds of almost fame.
Joseph Farley____
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