Lions and Tigers and Bearings

Moments bear reflection.
Reflections bear distortion.
The past is never as we gaze.
Reality edited with ripples and haze.
~
Years float by and framed on a wall.
Steps we make to aide recall.
With each step space’s unfilled.
Moving in haste time is killed.
~
In our crypts seconds we save.
The years we take to our grave.
Tomorrows come as yesterday’s go.
Only to remember what we know.

~*~
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A Brief History of Dragons

The earth still brewing,
new life was stewing.
Flora askew and fauna still new,
eat or be eaten was all they knew.
~
The ground untested, sulfur’s in the air.
Crazed creatures wandered unaware;
creepy crawly slithery things,
swimmers of seas and fliers with wings.
~
But tucked cozily in palaces of awe,
dragons feasted and pondered what they saw.
Intruders were meals, some thrown back.
And gardening was their tasty snack.
~
Millennia past but for the dragon too soon,
change was afoot with the handy baboon.
Their hordes grew and quickly spread.
The plundering’s swift but never to be fed.
~
The dragon’s numbers always small,
just a few thousand and that is all.
They’re all very patient and very, very smart.
Some of the elders saw this planet’s start.
~
A meeting was had, all without doubt.
The dragons decided to wait this breed out.
They hibernate now till mankind’s last blunder.
When happily woke to darkness and thunder.

~*~
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News from the Asylum

No news here!
It’s a sunny day,
bright and clear.
Birds sing everywhere.
~
Snuck a smoke on the roof,
I could see the town.
The police came,
they got me down.
~
Now the sunset,
no news yet.
I missed my supper,
cos I’ve no regret.
~
I broke the candy machine,
that made me sad.
But they can’t take breakfast,
for that I’m glad.
~
Bed time’s soon,
no news yet.
I like toast with butter,
But I sometimes forget.

~*~
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New Old Fashion

After years and years of ups and downs,
when value of self’s been pennies on the pound,
love’s been vaulted and disappeared,
old friends lost and new to be found.
~
The body waivers and minds forget.
Wisdom comes and goes in equal ration.
Time’s rushed but waiting improves.
And all’s well when life has passion.

~*~
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Oddly Bioanalytical

A poet doomed I’ve started believe’n.
The odds it seems much better than even.
T’was born on an even day, month and year.
And I’m a Libra to boot, if you care.
~
An INFP, I think that means I feel stuff.
And if that alone wasn’t enough,
I’m fair of skin, odd of weight and six feet even.
A poet doomed and my name’s even Steven.

~*~
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Word Free

Hi, I’m the me you can’t see.
I’m the me that’s stuck in me.
The other me is the me you see.
That’s not the me that’s this me.
~
I know it’s hard to see,
this me that’s the real me.
Is the real me the me you see,
or the stuck me waiting to be free.
~
That’s the me you don’t see.
The other me too doesn’t see me.
That me thinks they’re all to see.
That me doesn’t know me.
~
Other than me the other me is free.
The other me speaks the words of we.
The words of me are only to see,
words of me that set me free.

~*~
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