The Dumb Idiom Bum

I think he caught his second wind.
He keeps his cards close to his chest.
His back to the wall, he does his best
to weather the storm. Most thought
of him as a dumb idiom bum. Yet,
he was richer than the rest. He lives
in a house of business cards. Bet
he is a cat among the pigeons.
He buries every hatchet and burns
every bridge. He goes out on a limb
in cold blood. When life seems dim,
he looks on the bright side. Life is no
picnic, but it doesn’t get out of hand.
He writes his poems in a black book
in front of black cats with black caps.
He may give you the cold shoulder
or a skeleton from his closet. He is
the only human in a room full
of elephants wearing tight pants.
He raises the bar outside the lines.
He stays in the loop: has the scoop.
He will not drain his swamp.
No pain. No gain. And, he is here
to stay. The dumb idiom bum
chooses to live against the grain
because he is a free-spirit up to
no good for God knows how long.






Swamped

Engulfed in life,
work;
there is hardly time
to play. Most of us
don’t see the signs.
Flooded with emotions –
swamped
with stress. The day
leaves us
drenched, and we must
dry off
before the next morning.
Soaked and sad,
we can’t help to feel
bad. We do our best
to avoid
drowning in life’s sea.
I don’t choose to carry
this weight. It must
be fate.
Swamped.
Drenched. Flooded.
I choose to not run
from the water that
always comes.