A Blank Canvas Full of Filth?

About thirteen years ago, I was in a bad place. Quite disillusioned. I’d lost my way. So I wrote this little poem. Again, quite amateurish when I read it now. I thought however, it does convey my feelings at the time quite vividly. The world, a blank canvas. And depending on one’s stage in life, it can be a beautiful painting or a painful riotous mess. Here’s my take on it, from over a decade ago!

 ‘And All That Jazz’

Fast cars

Speedy lanes

Rakish boys

Foolish dames


Chases, places, faces

Quests in vain

Humans littered

Dot the endless chain


Play their parts

Love or hate

Or clean slate?


Methodical madness

Serial killers

Distressed damsels


Untamed flowering love

Heartaches & heart breaks

Unholy consumerism

Nationalistic fervor in drought

Intellectual voyeurism


Emotional plethora

Repertoire of sins

Conflict, battle

Some you loose

Some you win


Religious biases

Biased doctors

Wicked copters

Twisted tales

Clandestine counters


Cheating wives

Cuckold husbands

Divorced minds

‘Vows’ in dust bins


Generation Potter

Dope head daughters

Minds in gutters

Sterile rotters

Bashful leaders

Cultural feeders

Perverse needers


Gyrating bellies

Insatiable appetites

Travoltas and Kellys


Nations at war

Agendas of peace lie tore

Imitation products galore

Pleasure parlors

And HIV whores


Sweaty pores

Impure shores

Sliding doors

Sights to abhor


Philadelphia sadness

Life’s marathon

Sporadic gladness


Bitter sweet symphonies

Endangered species

Cheerleading sweeties

Illogical treaties


Some silent

Some squeaky

Some clean

Some freaky


This world

This life

Canvas of diversity

And all that jazz





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