Where the parallel converge
To again diverge
Where the parallel converge
To again diverge
The expression of time in medium
Through focused jubilant tedium
Seeing our world with open eyes
Recording all without disguise
Art’s a cause for sharing good
A cause to share as we should
Art needs no leave or applause
Art is just, just because
Stagnation rots, life’s to quiz
Be cause, art is
The sea’s the source of life that be.
Life’s the beginning of all’s journey.
Journeys inform of real diversity.
Reality is what we individually see.
Fantasy’s what we make it to be.
Science is what we think may be.
Thought is time with mind set free.
Free is what we’d love to be.
Love unites, we all agree.
Hate divides universally.
Together to agree to disagree,
a reality of peace we then may see.
What’s a cameo
with only one layer showing?
Breezes aloft to venture away
Rudder responds to steer our way
A compass true to guide us home
Anchor moored to no longer roam
The rouges be kept before the mast
Our knot be taut to forever hold fast
It’s you, this phantom on my stormy sea
So please wave good-bye or sail with me
Death ends when it starts
Life begins with beating hearts
Time betwixt just parts
Order starts within
Chaos ends when you begin
Without cannot win
To all my WordPress likes, or no
Your many gifts have helped me grow
For you my thanks I’d like to show
(though procrastination makes it slow)
With no further aside let’s give it a go
May all your hopes and dreams come true
Or at least get some rest
For another year’s upon us
I wish you all the best
And have a very merry holiday
With a dash of Ho, Ho, Ho!!!
And may your bells be jingled
Beneath the mistletoe
Babies bounce, wiggle and giggle
They’ll toddle together all day
Until the first steps out the door
They think what their parents say
Off to school for the golden rule
Plus infinite shades of gray
Their grades growing ever higher
Where some will flex others sway
Color’s blind when colors blend
The indelible always stay
Unwanted hues discarded
When tired of their display
Yet a garden need be nourished
For the hope of blooms in May
Or lie and hide from the fall
And awake to face decay
A wordy poem
no one reads. Haiku condense
The poet concedes
The devil’s in the details
There’s enough to fill a book
Good or bad become a blur
The higher up you look
Faith adorned upon the sleeve
Or chained around a throat
Taking solace in salvation
While giving little note
Somewhere writ “thou shalt not kill”
This would seem to say it all
They’re simple words to live by
If only we’d heed the call
Or pick and choose words to use
Suffice to make a pennant
Rally around on sacred ground
Then rent it to a tenant
Swaddled in our presentation
Is a tolerance for damnation
Defending of a man-made notion
Is this vast imagined nation
With a patting of backs
Preserving of merit
We share the rounds
To spread the tenet
With finite time defining sin
Demanding of others penance
Then timeless regurgitations
Refining of the conscience
These details are the devil
There’s never enough to please
Yet bad and good become more clear
The deeper down one sees
What sticks in your head
and sees the darkness? It’s a
Arriving with the morning train
The past behind, future’s to gain
With rising steam and grinding squeal
Win or lose by the stop of a wheel
Trains of thought left at the station
Journeys begin without hesitation
A planted foot, a start to make
A next will follow to lead and take
Lines disappear like the rail
As is the road or dusty trail
Tracks go where has been seen
Logs of time spiked in between
Platforms appear, rise or fall
Sounds heard, herding all
Most go, some have remained
Paths unknown for those untrained
Here’s just another long ass poem,
where pencils wander and minds roam
Wrongly writing a writers spoof,
pretending to act ambivalent and aloof.
Scribbles scribed with thoughts adrift,
begrudging the irony of a weighty gift
A gift when open can amaze and surprise,
when amiss all’s left to despise
Ego and insecurity blend on the page.
The shadows measure, shades gage.
Jumbled words of love, sorrow and joy,
of friendships made or to destroy
Dreams dreamt with eyes shut tight,
while dreams are had in the light.
Time in reflection thoughts bounce then fade.
Intensity’s the source of all that’s made.
Whether hobby, craft, art or obsession,
or a statistically nil reliable profession.
There’s no substitution as far as I can tell,
There’s no on or off switch, no warning bell.
With a drizzle of drudgery and a smatter of haste,
the ink dries anyway, useful or a waste.
When the wining, waling and whimpers wane,
recall and record so something’s to gain.
This may not be a sonnet or magnificent tome,
but at least it’s another long ass poem.
If only I had a time machine,
there’d be no stopping in-between.
Dials and switches, all locked in place,
time standing still in your loving embrace.
If granted three wishes, two are for you,
the first will to make my wish come true.
Perhaps a crystal ball where all is to see,
a sphere of exploration, hand in hand you and me.
Or gifted wizardry, sorcery and magic,
I’d need to perform but only one trick.
You’d appear before my starry eyes,
together we’d soar in moonlit skies.
If to be a man of wealth, youth and style;
I’d trade it all just to make you smile.
But I’m not, I’m just me,
with little more than simple poetry.
Though I’ve hopes and dreams to see and do.
I’d have all, if only to share, if only with you.