expectation

by

hawk chronicles #13…

copyright cwmartin 2011

jagged edges
of expectation
line the shores
of reason
when
you stare
at me
i am
a predefined
vista
one constructed
from old news reels
adventure photos
and
television commercials
capturing none of
who
or
what
i am
you
see a predator
a bird of prey
to be glorified
or hated
depending upon
which child’s fantasy
you can recall
or
which nightmare
brought a cold sweat
before dawn
but
i say to you
you do not
see
me
nor
do you see
yourself

by

hawk chronicles #7…

copyright cwmartin 2011

who built
these walls
of expectation
that confine us
to
a reasonable
approach
to life
are they crafted
by our own beliefs
or
ancient structures
left behind
as an inheritance
from some
relative
we hardly
knew
and
never
liked

by

alice in political land…

Image from devilgraphics.com/Alice In Wonderland Graphic

so here it is
there was this bunny
he went down a hole
and this chick
follows
but falls hard
like during an election
so next thing
there’s this party
tea party
and everybody’s
hanging out
with the mad hatter
and talking
al’ bunch of stupid stuff
and the chick chimes in
like you know
drill baby
or something like that
and then
the rabbit hole starts
throbbing oil
like an artery’s been cut
or like that something
and the people
get a sudden
case of alzheimer’s
alzheimer’s
you know when someone
says i’ll call you tomorrow
and moves out of town instead
anyways they
start yelling
off with his head
off with his head
like the dude’s christ or something
an’ wha’
what
the moral of the story
well here it is
expectation will put your ass
in a sling faster than a speeding bullet

by

doubting thomas….

reach out with your finger
and touch the doubt within you
behold the wounds of fear upon your hands
thrust your hand into the side of yesterday
and begin to understand your fear
as nothing more than
a death shroud
placed around your tomorrow
your self-doubts
nail you to the past
hold you to the cross of other’s expectation
you cannot reach your dreams
without rolling away the stone of fear
that holds you in  a sepulchre
of your own design