Just Another Thought

Why must I rise so early from bed?
Why don’t the thoughts leave my head?
Why can’t my answers pass the test?
Why do my dreams never rest?
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Why does every day need a new start?
Why won’t this passion leave my heart?
No, I don’t want to write anymore!
Unless that’s what all this feeling’s for?

~*~
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Friggadoon

Century’s lost beneath a frigid sea.
A mystery shrouded from you and me.
One hundred years till the darkest of night.
A body shall be risen once gone from sight.
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Subjects none, she’s a queen alone.
An island rests till her desire’s grown.
She’ll rise from the mist in fur, feather and scale.
Cloaked of face, she’s lovely beyond the pale.
~
Her quest is simple; to attain her reflection,
caught from a soul’s image of loves perfection.
Her call is silent, her essence shines through.
Once chosen, there’s none you can do.
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Her attraction’s permanent, like flies on sweets.
And entice she does with her anticipated treats.
From a dream plucked, it’s her prey of late.
In a line they’ll stand with surety of fate.
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Then only she will choose.
Who’ll be the winner this time to lose.
The others left bereft of heart.
Free for now to long another start.
~
The queen now quenched returns to her bed.
Her emptiness filled, rube’s again shed.
And the rest of us wonder of the tales that be.
Or am I to flounder in a flash of the sea?

~*~
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*In Brigadoon all roads lead to the future.*

Morning Triku #176 ~ The Bright Side of Gray

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Too Read

Daily poetry
The soothing of a poets heart
But for lover’s not
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That’s Not Funny

Self-deprecation
Is laughing at our failings
And with good reason
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Failing to See a Point

No longer obsessed
By success or of failure
I’m used to failure

~*~
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Clarity in the Looking Glass

No Hocus Pocus,
time’s to focus.
I’ve faced much dread,
dreams again shed.
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And I’ll rise from the trash,
of once certainties ash.
There poetic ember burns.
Passion is as passion yearns.
~
A phoenix again will rise,
glowing to dry teary yes.
Where risen to a painted sky.
The muse is I.

~*~
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Morning Triku #175 ~ Second Period

Choose Choice

Life’s multiple choice
Our answers lessen with time
Questions grow harder
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Schooled

Fears prevail feared
Tomorrow’s today’s earned
All will rise, some learned

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Chances Are

Life is bad when sad
Or grand when on clouds we stand
And glad for the hand

~*~
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Art for Sight

Second guesses are twice wrong.
If you don’t like the music don’t write the song.
When a heart has a question the answer’s foregone.
A canvas stretched can’t mimic the dawn.
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Too much thought can be a curse.
A little more can be a verse.
Half the time we’re half a sleep.
We feel safe in the dreams we peep.
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100% per try comes once.
50/50 you’re a dunce.
Start from scratch, shoot for the moon.
You may miss but you’ll know soon.
~
Primal intuition on cave walls bear.
The futures instinct paints ones fear.

~*~
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Passionate Passage

Just a little exercise to see what I do,
I’m going the bathroom to write about poo.
I’ve fluffy white paper that floats from the wall.
And a sink nearby, in case I fall.
*
In a window with shutters I control the scene.
But the stench still oozes in-between.
There’s a mirror that magically hangs above.
It’s never quite straight, much like love.
*
The image’s the same no matter the tilt.
It tells no lies or feels no guilt.
I’ll wipe the smudges, the exercise through.
I passed the test but slipped in do.

~*~
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Crossroads

Maybe a message will set things right.
Or should I wait another night.
Maybe’s she’s waiting for my call.
A show of friendship could say it all.
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I’d like to know how she’s feeling.
Maybe like me with a heart reeling.
Will there be anger, will we cry?
Will we laugh, will we lie?
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Or will she say “Oh I’m feeling fine”.
Then I’d know she’s never to be mine.
Should I except loss to relive the pain?
Or make the call to break my heart again?

~*~
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The Pits

Time ticks forward and pendulums swing.
Optimism’s great but doesn’t change a thing.
The future’s unknown, sleep’s for dreams.
Sometime clarity’s not what it seems.
*
Questions swirl in my tired head.
Respite unfound in my tousled bed.
Broken hearts we all have felt.
The gates of hell I have knelt.
*
My soul’s on fire, mind’s aflame.
Yet only I there is to blame.
Anger’s felt with nowhere to go.
My fists bleed my face does show.
*
Passion remains through good and bad.
Words arise, though sometime sad.

~*~
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Forecasting Dribble

I woke this morning to see a new way.
My eyes watched the sun rise, my soul saw gray.
Love again felt and again lost.
A heart once warm’s now plagued by frost.

Winter’s coming and with it cold.
Time rushing forward’s getting old.
Nine months high on a dreamy cloud.
Then emptiness found beneath a shroud.

A future seen, maybes had.
Baggage lugged a journey’s sad.
Weighty pasts multiply fast.
Feelings divided never last.

Mind’s write the whether of the day.
And life moves on, or so they say.

~*~
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Ships Log 102418.2

The seas choppy there’s no port in sight.
A paradise found disappeared overnight.
Alone on the bridge now’s time to reflect.
When a course assured why reject?

Charts bear no point with a destination behind.
And the oceans small in space I find.
A tern overhead I’ve still to hope.
For the sailor, line’s life, there is no rope.

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Always Sunny

In darkness risen for a day surely bright.
Dawn awaits the future in sight.
Weather’s uncertain but spirits alight.
Drizzle chilled can dampen not our night.
~
A sun shining somewhere is on my mind.
Horizons call together we’ll find.
Souls united with hearts in kind.
The warmth of two leaves darkness behind.

~*~
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Again

Another day apart is another day to start.
A day to start loving you over again.
Another night alone but we’ll talk on the phone.
And we’ll make our weekend plans.
~
The weekend’s nearly here to be with my dear.
And together we’ll share our wishes.
Our weekend will too soon end and a text I’ll send.
It’s another chance to say “I love you”, again.

~*~
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Presently Overly Scattered

A thought a glance a word or line.
What will inspire tomorrows’ rhyme?
It could be anguish or love, death or a bug.
Maybe it’s the past, future or running out of time.
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Or maybe not, sometimes the present forgot.
A mind’s sometime scattered with distraction sublime.
Walls can be high and we leap or crash.
This time time leapt for today’s tomorrow’s rhyme.

~*~
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