Why can’t it just be Simple? [poem]
Why can’t it just be simple?
We laugh. We love. We let.
So just forget the ersatz needs
or any other bogus thought
which feeds or strokes our
ego’s ghostly cheek. No need
for expectations of what
others shouldly do or bring
or sing for love can harness
nothing ever but the wind.
Why can’t it just be simple?
We play. We say please do.
And any one out there —
a me or you — can be just
who they need to be to be
themselves within a cave
or from a mountain view
(so few can breathe the air);
move idly with the curves
and make no curfew there.
Why can’t it just be simple?
For it always starts that way
(no matter what the cynics say)
but then we crassly lay our
cracked & madsome schemes
(where nothing’s what it seems)
and futile carping dreams
and dark self-serving themes
across the way of calm
and turn a tryst into a fray.
Why can’t it just be simple?
So lay back — dream a sigh
(forever heaven wonder why
the grass is green) in lightword’s
godly colour scheme while
rocks wear down & everything
on Earth revolves turns round
and even atoms seem so vast
pulsating like a signal to the soul:
Complexity is simplicity at last.
© Alan Morrison, 2016
The Naked Troubadour 