Clamacherry

Clamacherry

Looking through the prism of many thoughts;

In some thing or some other the whole world,

Thinks the clamacherry is a cherry.

Talking at, and not to folks, they converse;

Civil tongue clipped on a long hiatus;

Conceptual faus pas striking up heat;

Trimming the facts we bake upside down cakes;

Web extravaganza, spiders have brains;

People walk on fingers not on their feet.

The truth not in the taste, but in the eyes;

Imagery clouds the imagination,

Pouring rain drops, to seed those many thoughts;

Stop! Think now, about the clamacherry;

It is a cherry, but in name only;

The truth is in taste, and not its shape.

From clamacherry wood, the poor make bats;

Stick mango shoes with clamacherry  glue

The rich smooth those poor bats with sandpaper.

The economy now in a deep tank;

Leaking at all corners, top and bottom;

Bright brains fix tank with clamacheery glue.

Frankly, the future is rosy in dreams;

But if we dear not to dream; what is next?

Our potential we would never know.

(April 2011)