It’s time once again for my daily catharsis. I started late so it’ll be hit or miss. I’ve nothing planned or grand inspiration, none but to quench my daily fixation. ~ The day’s review is well underway. Mind’s full of notes and the music does play. My pencil does lure with infinite grace. Time can be rewritten but we cannot erase. ~ Life though seemingly unpredictable, conclusions often contradictable, our tomorrow’s impossible to comprehend. But tonight I can write a happy end.
I woke to a light I hadn’t seen,
in a place I’ve never been.
My head hurt but that’s not all,
who I was I couldn’t recall.
I lay in a bed but I don’t know whose.
I wiggled my feet and felt no shoes.
I could hear voices behind the door.
It sounded like two, could’ve been more.
A lady came in, she helped me sit up.
She gave me some pills in a little cup.
I’ve now sat alone for months on end.
All I could do was read and pretend.
My name’s now Bond, I’ve sailed the sea.
Pirate’s no match for a cowboy like me.
I live in a castle that sits on the moon.
I rocket to work then home before noon.
My queen awaits in a crown that glows.
We’ve treasure to share wrapped in ribbon and bows.
The unicorn ran off when gently untied.
A possum was sleeping, we thought they died.
The band started playing,
the whole world was swaying.
We dined with guest from all over the map.
And with the stars we all took a nap.
I woke to birds singing in trees nearby.
The day’s bright, not a cloud in the sky.
Though things are never as they seem,
I just fell asleep but rose to a dream.
In search of a fairy tale one slipped my gaze,
tis the tale of ordinary days.
There still be pirates that roam the seas.
Kings and queens still do what they please.
Animals speak and ease our fear,
wheels launch and cycles steer.
In the sky on wings we glide.
In castles fortified we seek and hide.
Space is felt between the lines.
Time’s lost when the cover confines.
Peace is eluded when parts anoint.
Love’s drawn to illustrate our point.
There’s joy to read in a child’s eyes.
To overlook the smile dies.
Stories told, life’s to chart,
character’s cast from the start.
To write from one’s heart,
the sweetest of art,
Valentine’s every day.
To write from ones soul,
a most serious goal,
but stillness has its sway.
To write from the head,
the world’s just our way.
In time and space and geography’s place;
people rush by, each a new face.
All’s directing a no act play.
Scenes overlap and curtains fall,
script’s blank await the call.
Silence screams its say.
A choice to write’s a right to choose.
When darkness consumes the bright side we lose,
left only with blue and gray.
If a life imagined we’re to create,
chapters mate and thoughts relate.
The end’s let to stray.
Awaiting the sunrise,
starlight fills sleepy eyes,
coffee’s brewing brighter skies.
I feel today’s a happy day.
Clearing is the persistent gray.
And spring’s finally on its way.
Summer’s next, heart’s to thaw.
The beats of two inspire with awe.
Sunset’s as one an unimagined draw.
With a change of hue fall we’ll thirst,
a future’s quenched well-rehearsed.
But I think I need my second cup first.
Been writing introspectively of late,
it’s been months and months without a date.
How much longer must I wait?
I need a break, that’ll be great.
Soon the winter will dissipate.
And a sunny forecast I anticipate.
But paths will always deviate,
the twists and turns we can all relate.
Questions arise without debate.
Answer’s befallen of luck or fate.
Time uncharted I blindly navigate.
My soul wanders without a mate.
Sonnets await the love to create.
Feelings and desires never abate.
A head in the clouds carries their weight.
But a heart enlightened is never too late.
Penned in my head words leak out.
Even tone’s seen with never a shout.
There’s no laughter, whispers or a scream.
The sun doesn’t shine nor does the moon beam.
In two dimensions my thoughts do lie.
Depth filtered through one blind eye.
Torn between paper and time,
my heart beats on rhythm and rhyme.
Love’s too easy when inspiration’s free.
Fear’s too real when the enemy’s me.
Fantasy’s seen with a panoramic view.
Consumption’s felt when all the colors blue.
Life’s many a hue with every shade of gray.
But black and white’s what we read every day.
Yesterday shapes where our todays begin.
And tomorrows start when life leaks in.
In this time of “writer’s block”, I stare blankly at paper and clock. With jumbled prose I try to think, should life be guided by pen and ink? ~ Does a rhyme decide a story’s path? Can a re-verse save us from the wrath? The day is young; there are things to do, but the sky’s gray with a snowy hue. ~ The air is cold, I’ll assume, my spirit’s locked within a room. Doors will open if I choose. When all’s lost there’s none to lose. ~ Persistence colors the choices we make. Is persistence for persistence sake? Do we persist simply to win? If direction’s unclear should we begin? ~ Like life, love, thought and art, questions unanswered are the start. Life ticks forward with us or without. Thoughts will be shared without a doubt. ~ Art will be made with all the thoughts had. And love makes life happy but also sad. Dilemma’s obscure visions true. A vision obscures my dilemma new. ~ I’m seeking an end to what’s now fraught. The past’s the lesson of what’s been taught. And like life, love, thought and art, ends shade poetic an open heart.
The harder one works the easier it gets.
The grosser it is the more one nets.
The less you gamble the safer the bets.
Jackpots may allude but so will regrets.
All that glitters not gold, like sunsets.
The more thought is less the debts.
The higher the notes the wider one frets.
The more down the more upsets.
The more learned the less one forgets.
The more tolerance is less threats.
Climbs less long the more one jets.
Couples always pair but never sets.
The more the better never abets.
The more lost the more one sweats.
Appetites appeased the more one wets.
The more prepared is the less not yets.
If all could love all, we’d all be pets.
And if all loved forever, we’d all be vets.
From the onset there’s no a preset or resets.
There’s only mindsets and begets.
After all, the world is just half duets.
So let’s all play well together, yes lets.
I wished to pen a Valentine’s poem. But time did wander and the mind did roam. And all the words all used before. So why just add for the sake of more. ~ I’ve had my chances and my time. I’ve shared it freely with love and rhyme. For those written only memories remain. Hearts once in tune, beat’s not to regain. ~ Direction comes from all directions, but most lost. And only the ship of fools is love tossed. Though waves felt profoundly with silence rife, this day’s not yet over, nor is life. ~ I wish a wish made wishes come true. I’d wish to make a Valentine, just for you. But where it sent I just don’t know. But maybe the wish will end, tomorrow.
I think I feel a story coming on. I’ll need a character, I’ll call him John. And of course he’ll meet a girl. I guess I’ll just name her Shirl. ~ I only did that for the rhyme. But I’ll try a little harder next time. The pair will meet on a lonely street. John will ask where there’s a place to eat. ~ As luck would have Shirl’s on her way. They ate, talked and laughed the rest of the day. The sun long set and the check long paid. The time was now for a plan to be made. ~ John thought to himself, what should I do? His reasons for reservation are more than a few. Shirl too was thinking exactly the same. When the pieces are alike it’s no longer a game. ~ The conversation faded and they drifted apart. Was it the fear of the end or of the start? I wish this tale had a happier end. But then again it’s all just pretend.
Sitting in silence alone with my thought,
thinking of time when quiet’s sought.
But time it seems does not align,
to my plans or grand design.
Intersections come to bear,
a train of thought gets us there.
Whistles and bells are sure to please,
with some steam we’ll never freeze.
We’ll shovel shit to eat some bread.
Or dig ever deeper into our head.
Pain’s always felt to reach the goal.
The track we choose carries our soul.
I play with words cos it’s fun.
And when I’m hollow, I’ll be done.
Behind every smile a hidden face. The truth beams or without a trace. An image forged dissolves with heat. Lies spewed oozes defeat. ~ Laughter forced not funny to hear. Lines punched soon disappear. The folly of life is the reality of death. Friend or foe we share their breath. ~ Digging deep for words obscure, most buried others with allure. Infinite combinations unlock a soul. But the twists and turns take their toll. ~ To pirouette or to crawl, balance sought so not to fall. Random memes are filling my brain. The line is fine between output and insane. ~ Random thoughts not easily penned. Not all poems have an end. So today I’m a poet with a smile bright, though reality beckons fantasy’s in sight.
A healer of wounds or point to maim,
cupids draw’s reluctant of aim.
Bow’s untied but the bind pains,
the arrow pulled but the blood remains.
I close my eyes and the future’s blurred.
I call her name but none is heard.
I feel her touch when I’m alone.
A smile returned no longer shown.
My head still turns tho now a twist.
My heart still beats tho now half missed.
And this Valentines I wish not to start,
for a hole filled makes not a whole heart.
Imagine that, I’ve nothing to write.
I got up early and stayed up all night.
So I’ll make something up, if that’s OK.
I’ll probably live it some other day.
It could be happy or it could be sad.
It could be of some old adventure had.
I’m sure there’ll be others and why not.
Though most quite small, I’ve had a lot.
Perhaps a poet imagined that lives on a hill.
They’ll watch the sunrise and do what they will.
That might be good for a poem or two,
or maybe a love sonnet, maybe a few.
With these pages hands turned with time,
each face a story, each await their rhyme.
Each chapter has its title, the next to depend.
Tho thy tome grows heavy, I wish it no end.
I’ll imagine a tomorrow when something’s to write.
I’ll get up early and stay up all night.
Once upon a time,
I sat down to rhyme.
But the words just wouldn’t flow.
So I stood for a while,
I tried to smile.
But my face didn’t choose to go.
So I threw down my pen,
I said never again.
Never again I’ll seek to know!
I then sulked for a bit,
resisting a fit.
I didn’t want to put on a show.
Then I looked around twice,
saw everything was nice.
And I crouched down ever so slow.
While paying no mind,
I fell on my behind.
Embarrassment was mostly the blow.
Though just a stupid gaffe,
it kinda made me laugh.
Then again I began to grow.
The state of disunion was on display,
saw it on TV, it disrupted my day.
Tho all the true colors were shining bright,
reality’s star shone black and white.
With disillusioned diatribe and distasteful demeanor,
words disbelieved if to be keener.
While this dystopian pageant was donned to impress,
hopefully next year he’s a different address.
The sun rose before my eyes,
a morning poem’s on the rise.
A burst of orange is better than gray,
a better start to a better day.
Seeds of solace lovingly grown,
notes from friends set the tone.
Music’s on and coffee’s hot,
yesterday’s chill know forgot.
The clock reminds it’s time to go,
a future’s ahead though yet to show.
Dreams now at rest and goals call,
life awaits, good morning all.
Work is looming,
my mind is zooming.
The clock is no friend.
The day’s yet started,
yet I wish its end.
The future’s bright,
if just to fight.
But time does run.
The race beats on,
to the rising sun.
The past’s the guide,
gloom’s to subside.
Better moments await.
Tomorrow we’ll see,
if not too late.
Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.
History tells of brother’s scorn, clawing their rise with tooth and horn. One’s to rest upon tomorrows throne, a golden perch to call their own. ~ Eyed by others to take that place; the hidden, visceral and puckered face. With but one to thrive each will strive, who will choice to stay alive? ~ While kings of yore as knight once shone, kings that bore by night just moan. But history bores so I’ll say no more, mysteries conclude in days for sure.