Life just is. Though there is something in us which causes us to create sense out of our lives in relation to the world around us. Levity forces me to title the poem (as well as the need to fit the word “bucks” into the piece somewhere): Buck It.
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “Wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
Buck It (Apperception)
Hike. Hike. Hike.
We walk the steps of life.
Matching that which we can see
with laws that we conceive.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
Process pieces of our life.
Keep the bad at bay.
Never to retrieve.
Drone. Drone. Drone.
March on the days of life.
Ramp up that cross, my dearest friend.
Find something to believe.
If only to deceive; or,
I’m not so much for ramping up the cross….I believe in the power of love and myself.
Good for you.
Freud described the two most powerful forces as love and work. As did many other significant folks.
Thanks for commenting,
What a terribly sad poem, Randy!
Must have been disturbing – though that is what I aim for.
Sorry Janet – hugs!!!!!
I take your reaction though as a compliment, and I’ve done my job.
Think of this, or life, as a “Buck It” list. 😉
🙂 You can’t buck the system.
Oh, but you can.
Interesting take on this set of words. And GREAT title!
I was also playing with the idea of Buck Et.
Such as, “Buck It or Buck Et: Apperception”
Thank you for the new word – my grubby little mind leapt from buck it to fuck it.. which i suppose in some cases is true when we have to march on and on..having something or someone to believe in certainly eases that endless route march
Your mind isn’t grubby, and the implication of “Buck It”, as you wrote it, was in fact the implication.. 😉 One of the outcomes of perceiving life’s experiences, in addition to (self) deception, grieving, and/or a spiritual or religious experience, is just that, “buck it” – or as you so aptly wrote it, “f–k it”.