BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

More stuff ...

Yeah ... another poem. Whoop-de-do ... I know you're excited. If you want more of same there's always ... although I've not had a chance to update it recently.

Visit the BTRIPP home page!

                    IRONIC THE TRUTH

                    threads of doom twisted
                    into these tapestries,
                    records foretelling
                    the darkest of days;
                    the harbinger voice
                    has echoed within,
                    we sense the clouds form
                    a smothering pall
                    the freak show arrives
                    out on the street,
                    the busses, and the El;
                    subhuman creatures
                    all on parade
                    with jugglers, clowns,
                    and unwieldy beasts
                    distorting the flow
                    we find the chains,
                    we find the nails,
                    we gather mounds
                    of broken glass;
                    for all these failures
                    are ours alone
                    and we must now punish
                    the faulted one
                    ritual enactment
                    weighed down by time,
                    we must not only pass
                    through these motions
                    but appear to all
                    as though we too believed;
                    how ironic the truth
                    is only known to us
                    not with intention,
                    never with plan,
                    we ride the tumult
                    trying to achieve,
                    trying to attain
                    some crumbs of winning,
                    some fragment of success
                    as a consolation prize

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

visit the BTRIPP home page

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