Master Plans And Hoodlums

Poem By Mary X

Which eyes are the
right eyes?
There are no
right eyes,

do not look into
their sitting-gaze.

Which words are the
words of truth?
There are no
truthful words;

apart from the words
spilling from your own mouth.

Which nature is the
The man-made hoodlum
locked in machinery?

The bird eating it’s
worm to be
snapped up by a
preying cat?

Neither; do not use
your eyes unless they
are fully open.

Which poem is the

None; do not accept them.
Throw away the pages.
Ignore the words
but remember

to listen what’s in-between
the lines,

not what you wish to see
with a wishful smile
and a wishful wink too.

The only plan;
the only embedded truth is that

you created me –
I created you.

Comments about Master Plans And Hoodlums

The man-made hoodlum locked in machinery? GREAT LINE, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , MAKES THE POEM.
Fantastic. This is such a great construct. I found myself lingering over each line, as if I was lingering over a painting. there is an assured hand at work with this piece; brimming with confidence. A strong poem indeed

3,3 out of 5
3 total ratings

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who grew
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I open up my book of thoughts
And memories, and get struck
With a whispery clatter of voices and a blowing force:

Dipsy Blonde With Glasses.

The dipsy blonde with glasses
Is bending over again,

Trying to re-arrange her

No Critical Understanding.

the words.

Father I Am.

Drink up.

List This!

Everyone always admits to loving
what is bad
for them.