Is there any substance
To what we have to say?
Where do we lay value in our expression
In what we see, in what we do?
Where do place the value of a day?
While we write about nothing and everything...
What about that copper penny
Is it not worth our thoughts?
Tarnished, scarred, abandoned
It was worth something once
It use to be in someone’s pocket
Did their fingers trace the edges
Or stroke Lincolns face with tender
Who was that someone?
Does it even have copper in it anymore?
What about that random thought
Of adventure to a used bookstore
Upon entry gazing upon shelves
Filled with books that time forgot
Where random chance meeting expands
Not just mind, not just conversation
But another door opening to poetry
Email exchanged plans made
Happy pulled from pocket and set in place!
I set about wanting to prove once and for all
There is substance in a day!
We continue on, curls and I
She is pleased, she also found books to appease
To the zoo we go 34 degrees won't keep us away
Apparently others have something different to say
The parking lot contains perhaps no more cars than 20
I just can't believe, come on folks animals need love too!!
So here I am staring down looking at two owls
So stoic side by side they are so sturdy so sure
no movement no sound, just slight shifts to glance around
One leg paused to hold the just so, slight sway to and fro
And then a sight to see, a baby wallaby
Making his home below koala sanctuary
Pretty baby wallaby how I wanna hold
How many eyes have fallen upon these sights?
Were their hearts made of gold?
Did they take these moments of time?
Wrapping them in packages of appreciation
Substance, value held tight in memories
As my day continues on…
But Ma...I don't do dress up and pantyhose
Give me denim, give me cotton
High heels just don't work well
On feet always out of step
Hair done, clothes adorned, scarf to keep warm
Jewelry in place, off I go in an evening race
Fish out of water, where am I, why am I here?
Apprehension, large events, alone among many
I sigh for right now it is all I have left…
Wishing I was submerged right now in poetry
Fire in place, book in hand, sipping on Riesling
So far out of reach...perhaps tomorrow
For now I screw on my smile
Prepare for the band
Only to watch others dance hand and hand
Will you dance with me?
I can't help but wonder the value of a dance
The substance of arms holding tight
The shuffling of feet, side by side
To those that dance throughout the night
As I sit here...stuck in the middle
...of what to do...
Finding that music still soothes
The mind that wanders, today
Feeling the beat that plays
Because maybe it will be the thing that saves me....
Lyrics...pouring once again into my soul
...I think I will stay awhile
Because music plays my memories
And I am now stuck on rewind
As a cover of "I feel fine" kisses my ears
I smile...and remember...no one’s around to see
But the band plays on, the singer
Swigging back a few..managing to keep in tune,
I just sit here singing along
Sucker for music, sucker for memories
As my fingers fly across a typing pad
No bigger than the palm of my hand
Enter the white elephant into the room
Wrapped splendor handed out bit by bit
Numbers called above the crowd
Cheer and good tidings, joy and delight
All the way until we all say farewell
Substance piled into cars
Slurs, blurs and I am sure confusion
I chuckle, I sigh..
I still hate
©Briana Rose/Crimson Chaos Poetry