Taoist Repast
 

I was sitting at a table
With some good friends of mine
At a late night bar
On the New York State line
Laughing and discussing
Any topic at hand
Timing thoughts and comments
With the drummer in the band
Ice cold beer and cigarettes
Could be found every where
As we talked away our meager lives
In those hard wood, coffin chairs

Very seldom listening
To the words the other say
But rapt up in our own dreams
And very far away
Only half aware of
Half of what we know
Hoping some how life will show
The right way we should go
But now we sit and down our beer
And try to understand
Just why our lives are empty
As the beer glass in our hands
Knowing life ignores us
Still we trace our fantasies
In the beer foam on our glasses
Proud but fearful imageries

by John H Thomas Jr

If we but knew the future
Could never be controlled
But like the mighty oak tree
From seed to death unfolds
Its natural disposition
Free from nature’s hostilities
And all the things will surely be
All they’re meant to be
If only just to find the way
From our plastic littered souls
To become a leaf upon the wind
And reach our lives’ end goals

But still we sit confusing
Illusion for the real
And keeping up the games we play
Never knowing how we feel
So the nights go on like all the rest
And all the rest ‘til when
Some how in all this chaos
I’ll find my chance again

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