A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.

*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.

but aren't they all random?

Saturday, September 14, 2013

buck up


I know
sometimes you feel like it's all
going to be worth it. Arguable
things, questionable things
and who's to say? Maybe you're right, but I can see
that look in your eye from a mile away
and if you tell me this isn't a crisis of faith,
then I don't know what to believe in anymore. Look.

The soul's dark night has grown darkest again, I know.
I can't look inside you, I can't read your mind to tell
you what you're thinking, these are all just great
guesses. Hit after hit hits too close to home and you're like,
"who is this guy? How's he so acquainted with my demons,
and is you going to give me some advice or what?" Sorry.

Your demons and mine
are the same damn bunch of guys, that's all.
And they sure do talk about you when they drink.

But I can't give you advice. Advice is meaningless,
in a world where one person more or less
just doesn't seem to make any difference
to the weight of the world. And certainly
not to lifting it.

But it's not hopeless, OK? It isn't hopeless.
You don't have to life the weight of the world.
You're only responsible to lift your piece. Which
is only

the size of you,
at least.

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