Get everything down in black and white they tell us

Go for a long walk to get a clear perspective, absolutely crystal

Sleep on it and the solution will become clear in the morning

Which genius came up with this cure all anecdote approach?

There’s no cure all solution, my friend, as they would have us believe

 

This societal planet of ours can’t be divided into equal portions

Life is not a boxed gateau that can serve eight to ten people

These boxes are constructed to a spendthrift’s blueprint design

On paper they’ll hold, but in practice there are more leaks than in politics

So it is little wonder that society has so much pent-up raw emotions

 

Society’s norm is a collective but interpreted perspective

Someone tries to type a label and stick conformity on my head

I am telling you now where to stick the label, over your mouth

Life has a habit of saucing its needs where and when it wants

Not to end up part of a tick box target driven local authority

 

There are thin lines that divide each realm of reality that rules

Destiny is a cruel mistress teasing responses then changing its mind

Greying the lines between love and hate, heaven and hell

The majority of our time is spent in this hinterland of virtual opacity

From which, always by dumb luck, we find a light to guide us

 

Sitting on the decking, staring at the shed, supping another home brew

Pink elephants come marching out of the shed door in a big parade

I lob the glass for a laugh smashing one elephants into four smaller ones

They come toward, I run trip, fall smacking my head and pass out

Wake up next day, next doors dog shagging my leg, pink baton in my ear

 

Which of these realms is the real world or perhaps the world isn’t real

Is it part George Orwell’s 1984 master plan for a screwed up planet

Or is it a case of adding all the world problems together and getting 42

Is a pessimist a fog that rolls in and is sceptical about where it’s going?

It’s your life your universe or do you share everything, hoping reality saves you

 

 

 

©Phil Golding Jan 2008