Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that’s true!
—Langston Hughes, Theme for English B
Separation
Is illusion
Bringing pain
And much confusion
We tear our lovely
World to bits
To believe
That we exist
We devastate
And we devour
Accumulating
Stuff and power
What is life?
And what is matter?
Songs of Self
Just make us sadder
by Richard W. Bray
A universe of traits
Lively and sedate
Butch and straight
Matron and girly
Smooth and curvy
Delicate and nervy
Nimble and bold
Young and old
Precious like gold
Fun and feral and silly and wise
In every shape and shade and size
You make the world a lovely place
In three point seven billion ways
by Richard W. Bray
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
—Phillip Larkin
In our lust for power and pelf
We pass on pain to son and daughter
I’ve passed along much hurt myself
It spreads and spreads like dye in water
Our lives are sad; our fate is strange
Life just seems like one big trap
Human beings will never change
Is existence merely crap?
Life is pain; there’s no exemption
I don’t seek meaning up above
Succor pain and seek redemption
In every act of hope and love
by Richard W. Bray
Time was away and somewhere else
—Louis MacNeice, Meeting Point
Together in a room
With no one else around
We dance to a tune
That doesn’t make a sound
Where dreamers rhapsodize
Inside a cozy space
With my eyes locked in your eyes
We put the world in its place
by Richard W. Bray
And I wonder sometimes, what is it in me that hates me?
—Richard Wilbur, Complaint
What was I thinking?
Am I insane?
I wonder what happens
Inside my brain
Boss took me out
To announce my promotion
I puked on his shoes
And got a demotion
Whenever life hands me
The perfect shot
It ties up my tongue
In a perfect knot
She asked for my number
I was ready to score
Why did I tell her
She looks like a whore?
Whenever I’m offered
A True Romance
I flub all my lines
And ruin my chance
My mind is an iceberg
I just see the tip
I cannot control
What comes across my lips
by Richard W. Bray
You mesmerized me
Strumming your lute
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
I got an ache so
Stunning and acute
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
I’d give everything I got
To taste your fruit
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
I spend every minute
Planning my pursuit
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
Down in Beaumont, up in Boston
Out in Butte
There ain’t another woman
Half as cute
I’m dying here
But you don’t give a hoot
You already know you’re really, really cute
by Richard W. Bray
I’ve got a long list of real good reasons
For all the things I’ve done
—Willie Nelson
Chores
I didn’t do the dishes
Cuz the water’s awful mucky
And it wrinkles up my digits
And it’s really rather yucky
I did not rake the yard
Cuz I didn’t wanna blister
If you need a beast of burden
You should get my little sister
I did not clean my room
Cuz I’ll just mess it up again
It’s simply Sisyphean
Why can’t you comprehend?
Your nagging and your pleading
Make you sound like such a bore
Now fetch me up some vittles
And then finish all my chores
by Richard W. Bray
Been hived and herded
Doused and dirted
Desecrated
And deserted
Life is an ocean
Of misery and woe
Love is a notion
I’m fortunate to know
Been punched and prodded
Nailed and knotted
Fiends who plotted
Stomped and swatted
Life is an ocean
Of misery and woe
Love is a notion
I’m fortunate to know
Been kicked and slandered
Dumped and dandered
Pitched and pandered
Without candor
Life is an ocean
Of misery and woe
Love is a notion
I’m fortunate to know
by Richard W. Bray
What do I gotta say
To make you go away?
I’ll beguile and masquerade
Till you go on your way
I’ll make up any lie
To hear you say goodbye
I’ll say I understand
I’ll tell you I’m your man
I’ll say you are so right
I’m with you in this fight
I’ll promise earth and sky
To hear you say goodbye
by Richard W. Bray
two donuts and a red bull
now I gotta go
sugar sugar sugar caffeine
gotta go & go & go
words come in all directions
words build up inside my brain
try to get em out but
my thumbs cannot explain
by Richard W. Bray
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