The way she laughs, the way she smiles, the ways that she sees me, the way she walks, the way she talks, the ways she helps me see. ~ The way she looks, the way she feels, the way she touches me, the way she kisses and fulfills my wishes, the way that love should be.
I think my pencil’s broken, nothing’s coming out. I’ve tried lots of paper, now I’m feeling doubt. ~ Could it be a dream, the writing that I’ve done? Or perhaps a nightmare, this time I’ve spent as one. ~ I wake up every morning, before the sun will rise. My chair awaits its ass, glasses await their eyes. ~ Coffee I will slurp, watching hours burn. If I were a younger man, it’d be of less concern. ~ Time is not to waste, though I shouldn’t squawk. My pencils served me well, though I may try chalk. ~ I know I need my fix, words do the trick. Perhaps I’m not a poet, just really, really sick.
If to paint you in my mind, extra space I will find. Many things I could forget. Hit delete with no regret. ~ On the brightest wall you will stand. There I’d stare, brush in hand. Heart beats thumping, a flourish made. Details cherished never fade. ~ In my head we shall dwell. Sharing thoughts we’d never tell. On my shoulders you will ride. Our joy displayed in our stride. ~ The outside world no longer exists. Boxes checked on all our lists. Imagination will be our place. My only vision is your face. ~ All our wishes will come true. Our dreams are filled with me and you. But a painter I’m not nor a thief. Freedom’s greater than my relief. ~ For if to hide within one’s brain, there is no future or life to gain. Our time together on change depends. Our tomorrows then will know no ends.
I think I have an issue and it’s been a while. But I’ll be back soon to help you all smile. I need some time off but I’ll be taking notes. Maybe I’ll shoot some snaps or study ancient quotes. ~ I might write a tale of a dragon and a knight. But they’ll be best friends and never ever fight. Perhaps I’ll pen an essay of all the worlds’ ills. Better yet, pornography that might pay the bills. ~ The choices are seemingly endless but I can’t decide. I’ve dove into my brain cells searching far and wide. It’s a dark and squishy place where the palette dwells. It’s connected to the heart by strings, whistles and bells. ~ Delving ever deeper ideas come into view. Words drip from my head, on the page they’re spew. Their order or direction makes no sense to me. Then my eyes begin to close and the clarity I see. ~ The outside world’s distracting, as you are aware. If there is just one thing, that’s the one we share. I think I’m waking up now; it must be time to go. But when I write again I’ll probably let you know.
How many colors have you seen? How many shades in between? How many seconds till the day is through? How many more before the day is new? ~ How many questions must I ask? How many answers to complete the task? How many times can I persist? How many times can I resist? ~ How many redundancies before I’m done. How many more was it than one? How many poems must I write? How many days will I see night?
Yesterday I felt abstract. But the picture’s still intact. Colors and shapes are in line. But the edges are all mine. ~ The final piece isn’t always neat. Things get trimmed or to delete. But when it’s shaded no one knows. We choose if it’s dull or glows. ~ Though life’s mistakes we cannot hide. It’s sink or swim to ride the tide. Life’s ever changing each day begun. Unlike the seascape, either fog or sun.
Spring is nearly over and summer’s almost here. The beach we’ll soon visit but don’t forget your gear. There’s sunscreen for your skin and a hat for your head. And don’t forget the mask to hide the look of dread. ~ You’ll need a little lunch and extra water too. Bring toys for the kids so they’ve something to do. Go home and disinfect all the things you’ve brought. Then long hot showers so no bugs are caught. ~ Relax a bit; go to bed and dream of doing more. But wait at least two weeks just to feel sure. The summer’s short and soon it will be done. Let’s hope by the fall we’ll have a bit more fun.
A story begins when an adventure’s been had. And for two young lads their end was bad. They choose to skip school on a bright sunny day. While deep in the woods the sky turned gray. ~ They veered from the path when a chipmunk ran past. They bolted and darted but the critters too fast. Resting beneath a lush canopy of green, the fast moving clouds they hadn’t seen. ~ The temperature dropped as the sky turned black. The boys had no clue of how they’d get back. Rain fell in buckets, the pair soaked to the bone. The howls and growls meant they weren’t alone. ~ The pair was now hungry, cold, tired and afraid. Both very sorry for the choices they made. Each made a promise to do as they should. And if they survived they’d always be good. ~ Shivering all night, either could sleep. A nightmare they lived while both counted sheep. Through teary eyes a new dawn was seen, and the boys now as happy as they’d ever been. ~ They rose with a burst and sang out in joy. Then a bear was spotted and she was no toy. The children screamed and ran off in fear. But the bear stayed put with berries so near. ~ Each boy choose a different path, now each alone, if ever reunited both now more grown. The day warmed up nicely and a search was begun. But unfortunately by sunset they’d only found one. ~ Days past and reinforcements were called in. The lake was dragged and patience grew thin. The boys’ chance of survival was now very slim. Most of the town folk figured the bear had found him. ~ The police told his parents clothing was found. And also nearby there was blood on the ground. The boys’ mom screamed seeing his shirt. It being torn and bloody and covered with dirt. ~ The search was called off that day at sunset. The boy that was found was now full of regret. Another week passed and a service was planned. A headstone was chosen and shovels were manned. ~ The church was full with mourners from afar. Then a ranger drove up with a boy in the car. The boy ran in the church yelling “I’m sorry and glad”. “I’m glad to be alive but sorry for being bad”. ~ Hugged by his parents who were both quite relieved. He then told his story that’s hard to be believed. Punished all summer, he was not allowed out. The adventure was uncertain, but a story, no doubt.
I haven’t written much of late, my brain has been askew. I search the news constantly seeking something new. The summer is upon us and the birds sing with glee. I’m not sure if they’re happy or just teasing you and me. ~ While we were trapped inside the wildlife had its way. But soon we’ll be back out and ruin their perfect day. The roads were nearly empty with few planes overhead. The plants bloomed on schedule and the animals all well fed. ~ Their air was a bit cleaner and the noise was nearly nil. And while they frolicked peacefully we tested our will. This poem is nearly over as I watch the cars pass by. I’m glad we’re almost normal now but for the animals I will cry.
Our world today’s a different place than a year ago. We could all walk our main streets, eat and see a show. We could drive our cars across state lines and return when we choose. Now we’re quarantined with two more weeks to lose. ~ We could go to stores, say hello and smile at all we see. The things we took for granted when we were more free. Now we’ve protests and riots in cities across this land. Injustice lit the bomb now where we all stand. ~ The summer months are coming and temperature’s sure to rise. It’s time to wipe the sweat from our brows and open our weary eyes. Tomorrows may appear the likes we’ve never seen. But we’re going to share this world; good, bad or in-between. ~ A perfect storm is underway, though perfect it can’t be. The year is now half over and in the end it will still be we. We’ve pandemic and pandemonium but both will surely end. And with 2020 as hindsight our past we must amend.
I like to smoke but I don’t know why.
I spend lots of money and want to cry.
I’ve burned lots of clothes, now I just sigh.
I’ve bummed from strangers even though I’m shy.
I’ve smoked cigars, but butts good bye.
I know smoke a pipe, looks good with a tie.
I can’t smoke on planes, so I don’t fly.
It makes me cough but I don’t get high.
I became addicted in the blink of an eye.
I stole packs from my parents, thought I was sly.
I shared them with friends, how cool was I.
I’ve hidden it from family just like a spy.
But if you need a light, I’m your guy.
If you need answers I’ll say don’t pry.
I can’t quit today so I won’t try.
Maybe tomorrow, but we know that’s a lie.