life between war-times in poetry

if you wait at the ever-ready for
a crisis with every single breath
I guess you’ll get one eventually
you’ll also have ruined your life
while you girded up against death
nostalgia is a honey flypaper trap
there’s no way to reclaim the past
at best we find a future that lasts
for a little while anyway at least
it isn’t all famines
it isn’t all feasts
it isn’t all burdens
it isn’t all beasts
it isn’t all flagons
it isn’t all dragons
off the edge of the known map
it’s just either water
or it’s just outer space
depending the way you see the place
it isn’t all sunshine
it isn’t all strife
sometimes it’s wartime and
sometimes it’s life

Last updated January 03, 2016