Month: May 2024

Pushed Pulled Profundary

In search of a new aesthetic,
I’m waxing a wanning poetic.
The ups and downs prophetic,
the results sometimes pathetic.
~
The sun has now fully risen,
I’m trapped in my mind’s own prison.
Bound to a rickety mizzen,
today’s breeze has yet arisen.
~
In blissful times I long to be,
up in the clouds I feel free.
On earth I’m just another me,
sink or swim’s the rule of the sea.
~
But rules were meant to be broken,
this cliché’s this breaker’s token.
Pathetic penning awoken,
though words are louder when spoken.
~
So, I’ll scream all day if I must,
options usually boom or bust.
Passion is both love and lust,
poetry is and sometimes just.

~*~
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Too Many Words

Dreams lie,
poets cry.
Change’s new,
writing’s blue.
Hearts torn,
minds worn.
Sleepless nights,
emotion ignites.
Passion’s hot,
indecision’s not.
Seeking clues,
negativity spews.
Future’s debatable,
perfection’s unattainable.
Happiness eludes,
fear exudes.
Trust questioned,
turmoil’s destined.
Bodies tired,
decision’s required.
Feelings askew,
answers few.
Love shared,
time’s dared.
Yesterday’s die,
tomorrows fly.
Today’s through.
What am I to do?

~*~
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Writing Time Away

~

A numerically nuanced poet’s tryst,

darts on parchment creating a list.

There are columns two, one for kissed,

marginal notes so nil is missed.

Lovers or not, friends a lot,

harmonious hallucinations and those forgot.

Brain freezes and the hellfire hot,

infatuations and heartbreaks got.

Or columns three the now to see,

minimizing minutiae, no space free.

Summations summarized, calcs agree,

obvious observed and we equals we.

~*~

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Morning Triku #164 ~ Fine Lines

***

Perspective’s the Point

Renaissance people
love and share to forever grow,
rebirth’s far too slow.

***

Ills to Frills

Hate kills and love thrills.
Words will chill with fiery quills.
Never still pays bills.

***

YOU’RE FIRED!

Hatred in the heart
cedes peace to heat in the head,
when one dies, two dead.

~*~
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Sunny Monday

Stuck inside my head today, it’s not a good place to be.
It gets pretty lonely in here, just me and me.

A place so dark, blues are bright.
My body aches, yet alone I fight.
The same million thoughts all run around.
The same old shit knocks me to the ground.

A door is here.
I know somewhere.

I’ll bang my head around one more time.
A crack may appear, again I’ll rhyme.
Again I’ll love, again I’ll care.
Again I’m free, but do I dare.

Static by day and charge by night,
two negatives don’t make a right.

But sleep will come eventually.
Work will follow unfortunately.
Then home again alone with me,
my Monday night mystery, yet to be.

~*~
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Clueless

I heard a story when I was away.
It happened last year on New Year’s Day.
A man and his wife went out for a walk.
The beach was deserted, they had a talk.
~
No one knew what the two spoke about.
But it didn’t take long for them to shout.
The women ran back and checked out in haste.
The man was gone, his existence erased.
~
The spa was closed and the police had a look.
A comb was found with a watch and a book.
The detective knew that everything’s a clue,
later that day they found a lone shoe.
~
The sun soon setting, the search had to wait.
The police returned the next day before eight.
Records were checked and fingerprints taken.
Nothing was found but the detective unshaken.
~
Seems the couple paid everything in cash.
The deputy examined all of the trash.
The book, he exclaimed, the best clue they had.
There was also the shoe but that smelled bad.
~
The watch looked expensive but not all that nice.
The comb was filthy and covered with lice.
The detective re-examined all of the clues.
The phone then rang, he hoped for good news.
~
A body washed up on the beach overnight.
By the look of his face he lost a good fight.
The detective, excited, rushed to his car.
He arrived in minutes, it wasn’t that far.
~
Although disappointed when he finally got there.
The man had a watch but he had no hair.
One thing’s for certain, he was missing a shoe.
It was a little too late but now he had two.
~
Now two crimes to solve and surely related,
there’d be no rest until the criminal’s located.
Days soon passed but nothing new discovered.
A report then arrived saying the victim was smothered.
~
The man was attacked but surely not robbed.
The deputy was called and confessed while he sobbed.
The woman in question was the deputy’s wife.
The dead guy, her lover, had come with a knife.
~
The deputy, of course, had worn a disguise.
But tans are evident in those warm, sunny skies.
His wife’s still missing but his watch returned,
it covered the place on his arm not burned.
~
The book and the comb, both common beach finds,
returned to the spa and their curious minds.
Apparently I read it but the plot was old.
The next day I heard a more chilling story told.

~*~
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Sedentary Travels

My day begins before the sun’s rise.
My cat meows and I open my eyes,
I stumble downstairs and she gets fed.
If the weather’s bad we go back to bed.
~
If the weather’s good we’ll stay awake.
I’ll boil some water and coffee I’ll make.
Then off to the porch, facing due east.
The sky lights up and eyes will feast.
~
The dark now shed the future’s begun.
We’ve choices to make; good, bad or fun.
I choose fun because that’s always good.
The bad’s unchosen that’s understood.
~
An hour passes and sometimes two.
Where the time goes I have no clue.
Often I write or just sit and ponder.
I think of life and what I squander.
~
The sun gets high, the workday’s soon.
There’ll be hustle and bustle till late afternoon.
The clock ticks slower thinking of home.
Then back to the porch where minds can roam.

~*~
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Morning Triku #169 ~ Haiku Theoreticallish

haiku theoreticallish

~*~
Our Wrinkle in Time

Work is what we do,
when not doing what we want.
Like death but with pay.

~
Constant Ripples

Time is space between.
Between matters and doesn’t.
Distance less with light.

~
Perpetual Emotion

Love is energy.
Hearts, minds and bodies unite.
Time accelerates.

~*~
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The Mothers Way

Cradles all her precious kin

Judges not, where life begins

Cherished breast nurture space

Moving forward her many race

 .

One side day the other night

One side dark the other light

Sheds cool and rain, heat and snow

Her orbits share all else to know

 .

Oceans deep, skies bright

Growing all, her suns might

She frees to wander, endless whys

Her moons revolve before her eyes

 .

Dancing tides flowing minds

Infinite movement never binds

In this universe family all are we

This milky galaxy our mother be

 *

The End

 ~

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Stuck in the Middle with Me

Having reached the pinnacle of mediocrity,
the vista’s not quite what I thought it to be.
Valleys dwelt, sunlight shading overtime,
peaks overshadowed by this risers’ climb.
~
Tomorrows sculpted with what’s on hand,
rocky paths forged with mud and sand.
Yesterdays cleansed by the will of the sea;
darkness consumed by a will to be free.
~
Years like seconds cast to the breeze,
a gales awaiting, each day a tease.
But to wake I shall, today I did.
I’m halfway there, but again just mid.

~*~
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Poetic Injustice

Afloat in red stilettos, hair, nails and lips

Shimmering in black satin, taught about the hips

Blue green eyes sparkle as they glance my way

Smile wide across her face, yet I’ve nothing to say

*

Subtle hand reaching softly touches mine

Nervously reacting I nearly spilled her wine

Leaning ever closer, whispering in my ear

Sweet sounds alluring, words I’ve dreamt to hear

*

Standing stunned, throbbing chest

Twisted tongue on a tortured quest

A racing mind all aflutter

An uncertain stutter I did utter

*

With this mutter she did chortle

A pen less poet’s just a mortal

~*~

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Laughing for Change

Today’s the day I change the world,
my fingers crossed, blankets hurled.
The rising sun lights up my day.
It matters not my sky is gray.
~
First it’s coffee as I check the news.
Feeling good I dodged the blues.
Next I’ll write, so here we go.
What we’ll find I don’t know.
~
Every day is an unknown path,
so veer towards love, and avoid the wrath.
Share your joy with all you meet.
Make someone smile your daily feat.
~
Laughing’s great, then happiness nearer.
I laugh a lot when I look in the mirror.
Perhaps the key’s our point of view.
I feel the change, now do you?

~*~
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Damn

Awakened by a dream of dawn,
sunshine beckons a brand new day.
Alas to find my words are gone,
a nightmare dark has found its way.
~
My darling slumbers peacefully,
awaiting her daily verse.
There my joy’s writ for her to see,
yet I suffer the poet’s curse.
~
My only wish is to make her smile,
returning the love she’s given.
And to make her laugh for a while,
curse be damned, this heart is driven.

~*~
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Dreaming Dreams Dreamt

Risen from the depths of gloom and dread,
cobwebs wiped from my sleepy head.
I awoke to a day of bright sunshine.
I looked out the window to see the world was mine.
~
To the bathroom I went to do my thing.
Perched was I as the birdies sing.
I then strode to the mirror and to my surprise;
the bags were gone from beneath my eyes.
~
My hair was perfect with none out of place.
The wrinkles of time were now gone from my face.
I raced downstairs to greet this new day.
I skipped and danced every step of the way.
~
While making my coffee an alarm I heard.
I thought to myself, now that seems absurd.
Next thing I knew I was back in bed,
pulling the covers from over my head.
~
My room was the same, still dark and gray.
Cold and wet was predicted today.
The nightmare passed but the dream still unclear.
But awakened was I to awake with her near.

~*~
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Welcome!

Yellow’s out, green’s underway

Pinks will wait another day

Then purples, orange and brilliant reds

Bursts of blooms thrust from beds

 ~

My world awakens, spring’s finally here

Lilac hues fill the air

Sunrise sparkles on morning dew

Budding trees frame the view

 ~

Clear blue skies, picnics at noon

Summer’s next, just not too soon

 *

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To All a Happy End

Books without covers, until they’re read

Blank pages at the start, full when it’s dead

Chapters each grow complex as time fills the sheets

Cluttered with description, scattered with fabulous feats

~

Leafs numbered carefully, some seemingly fell out-of-order

With twists and turns, good and bad, the best parts always shorter

All are novel, none a fiction, most never to be perused

All first editions on a shelf, most forgotten once they’re used

~

Paper backed or leather clad, short and long, some illustrated

Writ by a single hand, edited by masses, bound and frustrated

All’s a familiar historic tale, all they ever wrote

Copyrights handed down, penned in a marginal note

~

‘Twas a story of a life whose time may now transcend

Whether joyful, sad or demonic – all will be a happy end

~*~

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Fluff n’ Stuff

My mind is blank and I don’t know why.
I watched the sun rise in the sky.
I’ve got my pencil and a pad.
The day’s bright and temp’s not bad.
~
The news is filled with lots of stuff.
Some of it’s scary but most just fluff.
Life is good, I can’t complain.
I feel great, I have no pain.
~
I’ve things to do and the list is long.
Or do nothing but that feels wrong.
I’m not too bothered when I can’t write.
I might tomorrow if not tonight.
~
Just a start is usually all I need,
a couple of words to plant the seed.
Then the wheels turn and the page is filled.
Good or bad, again I’m thrilled.
~
So I’ll keep you posted as to my progress.
Hopefully I’ll have success.
But if not, that too is OK.
I’ll say good morning some other way.

~*~
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Too Much

I’m starting to think my phone’s a crutch.
It’s found in my hand far too much.
I glance at the news every ten minutes or so.
And the weather’s known wherever I go.
~
When I’m bored I’ve got games to play.
And there’s blogs I check every day.
My music’s there with more to explore.
I now have no reason to go out the door.
~
I’ve got mail and text and a video chat.
I could take selfies, but I don’t do that.
But I do like the camera and it’s often used.
Apparently I’m sneaky, or so I’m accused.
~
The flashlight illuminates the darkest of night.
And the calculator’s cool when I want numbers right.
There’s also a calendar to plan out my day.
And a G.P.S. to help guide my way.
~
I could write a story but typing’s a pain.
I could try my thumbs but see little to gain.
I can search the web for whatever I choose.
I’ve got alarms to disrupt my snooze.
~
And there’s more I’m sure but I don’t care,
I kinda wish it wasn’t even here.
Oh and the phone, that’s not used too much,
because I still prefer an analog touch.
~
This poem could go on for days on end,
I could type it all and just hit send.
It might not be finished, but no one would know.
Oh darn it’s ringing, I gotta go.

~*~

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