A Circle

 


A circle is a

line that meets itself 

and continues meeting itself 

until its end that never happens.


A handshake with oneself for eternity

-or would it be a folding of hands?

A first-time glimpse perpetually

-or would it be a crossing of eyes?


Small talk with oneself for aye,

“Hi! What’s your name? Oh you are ‘me’?

Hey me, I’m ‘I’, 

I’m very pleased to meet you, me.”


First-time impressions remain impressioned.

Me thinks I is fat, and I thinks me is thin,

And although I loses weight, and me fattens up, 

Me still thinks I is fat, and I still thinks me is thin.


A circle never says "goodbye,"

but ever keeps on saying "hi,"

for circles have no end of time.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Honey

I love Mother Nature, She’s a jar of honey sweet, But you can’t know the flavor ‘Til you dig in and eat.  I hug monstrous trees and collect tiny ants, I charm yellow bees and water green plants. I fish with a stick and chatter with squirrels, I use mathematics to measure the turtles. I pick huckleberries and paint with the juice, “Larry loves Carrie” On the old yellow spruce. I forage for mushrooms and eat them for supper, I trim lotus blooms and never tell Mother. I make natural drugs out of flavorful fruits, And I weave pretty rugs with their flexible roots. My friends say I’m funny Lovin’ water and woods, But they’ve never tried honey, They don't know that it's good.
Read more

The Yellow House

I was shocked that the whole darned world didn’t come When they heard the crash in old Husum, ‘Cause I fell hard, Me and my heart, We tumbled down  On top of this town, And we shattered the houses, all but one, The bright yellow house of old Husum. The yellow house had a tall green vine, And I didn’t like ending things so fine, When I fell hard,      Me and my heart,      And  tumbled down      On top of this town. I didn’t like wrecking the color of sun, So I tiptoed around that house of Husum. So the smashed up town sits in disarray, From that horrible, smashing, crashing day, When I fell hard,      Me and my heart, And  tumbled down      On top of this town, But for one golden box that stands high mid the trash, Lives to tell the story of the Husum crash.
Read more