More Meetings...

Another boring meeting,
But remember, I have a plan,
And that is to spend that meeting
In a place called "La-La Land."

They may control my body's location,
But they can't control my mind,
And where it wants to wander
And where it will reside.

So, meeting, blah.
You, yay.
I could get used to this
Every day.

Every cloud, it seems
Has its silver lining,
And my gray clouds
Has me, for you, pining.

Wandering

The meetings are boring,
And the meetings are long.
The meetings are dreadful,
And wretched, and wrong.

But there's one thing that
I can get from meeting:
A freedom to drift
To thoughts normally fleeting.

There I sit, in a room,
Bored, in a chair,
And oblivious to the meanderings
Around me. Without a care.

And then my mind wanders
Like a fly and a shoo,
And where it falls
Is gently upon you.

Rest

A day of rest, or cleaning.
I forget.
But a day I'm glad
That I get.

For any day I have,
It's true,
Is best spent
when invested with you.

And any day
That's spent without
Is a day of dark misery,
Shadows, and doubt.

But, hey, those days
Haven't really ever come,
So, I'm glad in my blissful ignoranace
To be quite contentedly dumb.

The Way...

The way we roll,
Six-sided, don't hide it.
Pick a card. Any card.
That's the way we roll.

The way we play,
All day? Any way?
Until our eyes are dry
And our hair is gray?
That's they way we play.

And the way it goes:
Fancy cars, fancy clothes,
Fancy stats, hair, eyes, and nose.
That's the way it goes.

The way we game?
Ever always, always the same,
In several ways, it's quite insane,
But, that's the way we game.

What Work You Have Done!

What work you have done!
What amazing work.
Once hanging on walls,
Now hanging, again, on walls.

Admired by many, few, all,
Hanging, there upon the wall.
Once in a big, room,
Now, in a small.

The fairy tales are told
Timeless, and classic.
And they're on our walls
Because of you, and a hammer, and a level.

I enjoy seeing these things.
I never tire
Of looking at
The work you have done.

Caught Up

I know I was slacking,
And my poems were lacking
In existing,
Because, I suppose, I was resisting.

I didn't know how to start
A new year, a kind hear,
And many, many goals,
Unable to take polls.

But here I am, right now, breaking even,
And I'm sorry it took me so long.
Please don't think of me as an unloving heathen,
For I'm sorry if I've made you feel wronged.

It's time and time again to write
The kinds of words that help our souls take flight.
And rush us off into the night,
Until we see the morning light.

Aquickbreak

Even though it's back to the grind,
Fate has a way of saying "I'm still kind."
I get to take some time off work,
And spend it with a stupid smirk.

We drive around, and pay two bucks,
And walk around in cold, which sucks.
And shiver and chatter until we're blue,
But, hey, it's time I get to spend with you.

And we drop a few thou' on an education,
In a school with the first educational TV station (in the nation!)
And they tell you, "Wait. In Tempore,"
Until you're tired, or broke, or poor.

It's a toil, and maybe a trial,
And you and I both know it's taking a while,
But, you know, I can't help but smile,
Having a reason to spend more time with you.