Tuesday, February 16, 2010

How much can one man say?

I never understood
those without ideas.

How can one
"NOT"
Think?

An idea to me
is a breath
of fresh air.

Without either,
suffocation occurs.

The brain needs both.
To adequately survive.

Oxygen
and
Ideas.

Corner the market.
Ideas for sale.

By the book.
By the ton.
By the kilogram.
By the boat load.

One for ten.
Two for fifteen.
Three for twenty.

Good one's.
Bad one's.
Old one's.
New one's.

What'cha want?
I got it all!

I just got another idea.
I'll sell you your idea.

Confused?

Exactly.

Think outside the box.
Around the box.
Under,
Over,
Even as the box.

Metaphorically,
Let's make the box a sphere.

No more corners to cut.
Just circular thinking.
Around and around we go.

Where we stop,
No one knows.
No idea.
Except me,
Because I got them for sale.

One for ten.
Two for fifteen.
Three for twenty.

Buy the bucket full.
Mop up the competition.
Too many ideas.
Not enough time.

Clone those ideas
Into other people's minds.
No need for greed.
One time trial.
First one's on me.

Strike you a bargain
And
Let's make a deal.

Free thinking spirits
are one in a few,
far and between.

An artist and playwright,
Poet and monk.

Too many hats
And
Not enough heads.

Could wear one,
But
Where's the fun in that?

Sculptor.
Painter.
Publisher.
Sure, why not?

I'll make books of ideas
for people to read.
Put them for sale.
For all to see.

It means nothing to me.
I'll just have more,
Before I sleep.
And after I wake.

A disease I deal with.
I live everyday.
Afflicting my actions,
And even my day.

Others live disease free.
Pity on them.
My curse is a blessing.
It's the life for me.

(Excerpt from 3rd Shift Epiphanies: Chronicles of a gas attendant.)
-Today's Daily Poetry

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Words that didn't exist until I started writing poetry

Zombified
Babylonianistic
Savviness
Unthought
Mantality
Copperize
Policement (courtesy of S. Clark)
glitterfied