The pounding bass of life rings
Bumping us, moving us as we listen
Bass clefs and staccato gives us chills
Making us jump up and down
We are alive
The eyes of our hearts begin to wander
Focusing on two things at a time
Though not really aware of anything
In particular
Just trying to get with the program
The bass of life pounds into our feet again
Driving us to do that which we would never do
And that which we should never do
Laughing all the while, we live
Living without end
Only those who ignore the bass of life have no life
They exist, that is for sure, and perhaps impose on others
But they do not live. Not really.
Because they do not listen to the bass, they have no real life
For the bass of life is the base of life
YOU ARE READING
Words of Whimsy
PoetryMy montage of poetry, from suckish to less suckish, this is what I do when I'm not actively being mauled by a bear.
