Signs and Things

The writing on the wall says many things, but I’ve never been one to pay heed to these signs and things,
People of old and wise narrate many tales, but I’ve never really cared for these fables of the ancient,
There are many signs that surround me, many sights I see, multiple orgasms that haunt me, multifarious monologues the same,

It is an ornate world of external beauty, like empty vases of decorated glass, only true when broken and the dozen or so roses of ex-lovers fall apart,
These crumbling petals of sweet memories and dreams gently drift with the wind, straddled by desire and, those many signs and things,
Your old car, like old love reminds you of that familiar touch and longing, even when the rose is in another man’s arms,

Books I read mystify me, with how many pages I have to turn, to find just one on which I cannot relate to those I have known or the many other signs and things,
A walk in the evening and the old familiar drone, comforting, pungent squeals and squeaky, pitched cries,
But somewhere around the corner, you always find an oriental beauty, dressed up and about, high heeled and yearning to be held or danced with, yet in her ear dangle rings of shapes and in a form of remembrance of ornamental curves, they are designs of caution, restraint and signs and things,

Music plays a great role in the realization of most of our lives, Radiometric coincidences and the natural wave in which we flow, our ups and downs, may be explained by science,
Or probability, but theoretical analogies and graphical explanations do subside, and the hearty carriers of them stand ashamed only to be ridiculed by the staunch believers of the mysterious signs and things,

No superhuman effort can fight these supernatural beliefs in the intertwining of lives by a supernormal being, giving hints and forcing nature, the altruistic leader or servant of all that breathes,
A magical demon of passion or love, the machine that produces that produces in large supply, all that feeds hope and dismay and the appetite of many an ardent optimist,
Those who subscribe for their general well-being and survival, to a scarce and largely spartan diet, of hope and laughter of the joy that they get in the many occurrences, those very subtle insinuations of signs and things.

I am not without belief of bubbles, may I add, but I believe more in the fact that they will burst, and fall to the ground, like those vases, and most other, unshakable, till shaken earthy beliefs,
Of all that is true though it must be said, most men would do well to not be one with it, and dream in their lonely nights, of splendor, of romance and the surmounting, amounting, illogically deduced, fictitiously contrived, desperately required, sums and remainders, final revelations, of cautious calculations, of their eye-witness accounts of close encounters with the anchors of their existence, their signs and things.