Month: January 2025

Too Cold To Go Outside

I woke today – weatherman lied.

I rolled over and I sighed.

Couldn’t sleep, eyes open wide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

There’ll be no swing set or slide.

There’ll be no walk or bike ride.

There’ll be no kites to be flied.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Today we have to play inside.

We’ll think of things never tried.

Stocking feet on floors we’ll glide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

We’ll build a fort for us to hide.

We’ll play dress up – you be bride.

Explore jungles – I’ll be guide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Time to dig a path that’s wide.

Getting dressed, boot laces tied.

Wind so stingy I almost cried.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

All’s warm, coats hung to be dried.

Find crayons, colors I’ve eyed.

Draw pictures for the fridge with pride.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Icy world all is gray sky-ed.

Plants droopy, looks like they died.

Bay frozen we’ll see no tide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Now sleep, teddies at my side.

Cold nights end, take it in stride.

Spring soon then winter we’ll chide.

When not too cold to go outside.

~*~

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Uncommon Sense

Punch the clock, kiss time away

Let’s all have a common sensical day

We’ll strive to attain the white picket fence

From this thing called common sense

 ~

Though no more than society’s rigidity

Saying that everyone had better agree

And if you don’t than you must be lacking

But hey – screw them! You don’t need their backing

 ~

Give it your all, do your best then see who’s slacking

Now get off the fence it’s time to get cracking

And when someone says you lack common sense

Say thanks, I’d rather be uncommon than dense

 ~

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Get the Lead Out

Letters we’ve sent, letters we don’t,
some we regret and some we won’t.
Some we forget, some we obsess,
some move forward, others regress.
~
The future will tell what we choose,
what we keep and the things we lose.
We’re in charge but not always sure,
some will quit while others endure.
~
Love it seems a double edged sword,
piercing the heart where life is stored.
Push too hard and the feelings gone,
though properly placed in we’re drawn.
~
Staying sharp we all can agree;
brings out the best in you and me.
Sharpen your pencils, grab your pad,
connect the dots and you’ll be glad.

~*~
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Morning Triku #69

Rings True

.

Mutually daring

Quintessentially caring

Lovingly sharing

~

.

Howling

.

Up before sunrise

Down by noon, dreading blue skies

Awaiting the moon

~

.

Dimensionally Stable

.

Having thought outside

The box for so long, I’ve now

Become Tripolar

~*~

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Winded

Tis the wind that taps my glass.
I close my eyes with hope to pass.
Tis the wind beats on my door.
I cower and cover till no more.
~
Tis the wind that haunts my home.
Forever it lurks where I roam.
Tis the wind that rattles my brain.
Run do I, none to gain.
~
Tis the wind wherever I go.
Till ash am I then it to follow.
Tis this wind shall set me free.
Scattered safely I shall be.
~*~

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Morning Triku #63

Too Little Rhyme ~

Life is Poetry

Some is good and some is bad

Most we’ll never see

*

Forever’s Never Last ~

Our writing is the

Exercise that forces us

To live fitfully

*

Con-Tent ~

Home’s where our stuff’s stored

A store is where our stuff’s bought

Bought’s where our heart’s sold

~*~

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Whip It Up

While watching TV like a slouch,
love can be made on the couch.
Or while eating tacos in candlelight,
or an extra kiss when saying goodnight.
~
Bad breath be damned, it’s the sunrise,
I kiss her cheeks till she opens her eyes.
Good morning’s shared and our day’s begun.
We need no plans cos everything’s fun.
~
We’ll relax in PJ’s, our hair a mess;
we’ll sip some coffee until we dress.
Smiles are traded with every glance.
But I smile less when she puts on her pants.
~
Laughter’s abundant with the joy we’ve found.
Our harmony’s felt with every sound.
Yes, love can be made most anywhere.
Just two things needed then blended with care.

~*~
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Lucidity

This morning’s poem for you I write,
of lucid visions dreamt in the night.
Images pass of cloudless days,
free of worry, blues or grays.

Our sunsets color an endless shore.
Mornings dance across the kitchen floor.
Hand in hand the future we greet.
Hurdles conquered leapt with four feet.

Two heads balance on shoulders twice broad.
Laughter’s twice loud with joy to afford.
Love’s twice strong with hearts entwined.
My dreams dreamt with you I find.

~*~
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Forever Surprised

Nights of passion, mornings of bliss,
sparks reignited with another warm kiss.
Sunlight beams through winter skies.
The heat is felt in loving eyes.
~
The day then begins skin to skin.
Temperature’s rising from within.
Whispers welcome our plan for the day.
The outside’s cold so cuddled we’ll stay.
~
Hours pass with laughter and love.
The sun now glows from high above.
With one more kiss we’ll both then rise.
The sunset awaits and perhaps a surprise.

~*~
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Morning Magic

Another blank page looks back at me.
Dreams now sleep and the sun’s to see.
My love slumbers a flight away.
When she rises I’ll start my day.
~
I long to see her glowing smile,
I smile back and stare awhile.
A kiss is next and our day’s begun,
our mornings together always fun.
~
We sip our coffee and chat a bit.
Work is looming but little’s writ.
Minds now settled and thought’s clear.
Then the page fills with love we share.

~*~
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Middling Thoughts

I’m too old to paint in tempera, takes too long to dry.

I’m too young to sculpt a headstone, since I won’t soon die.

I’m too old to swim the channel, don’t like being cold and wet.

I’m too young to drown in sorrow with so little to regret.

I’m too old to chase maidens through spring fields anew.

Though now the times just right to share all I have with you.

~

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Almost Optimism

Here’s just another long ass poem,
where pencils wander and minds roam
Wrongly writing a writers spoof,
pretending to act ambivalent and aloof.

Scribbles scribed with thoughts adrift,
begrudging the irony of a weighty gift
A gift when open can amaze and surprise,
when amiss all’s left to despise

Ego and insecurity blend on the page.
The shadows measure, shades gage.
Jumbled words of love, sorrow and joy,
of friendships made or to destroy

Dreams dreamt with eyes shut tight,
while dreams are had in the light.
Time in reflection thoughts bounce then fade.
Intensity’s the source of all that’s made.

Whether hobby, craft, art or obsession,
or a statistically nil reliable profession.
There’s no substitution as far as I can tell,
There’s no on or off switch, no warning bell.

With a drizzle of drudgery and a smatter of haste,
the ink dries anyway, useful or a waste.
When the wining, waling and whimpers wane,
recall and record so something’s to gain.

Just the right words are all that’s required.
Write day and night and be always tired.
And this; not a sonnet or magnificent tome,
but at least it’s another long ass poem.

~*~

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Guns, Gods & Greed

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Sowing a hideous seed, nourished with gas dug from our past.

Shoot first ask questions last. But hurry they’re going fast.

Guns, gods and greed

Suckled breast corporate laced, plastic faces our world graced.

We share with all what we waste from our piles made of haste.

Winner takes all, just make the call. Man is big the earth small.

Enemies don’t grieve, faith does not deceive.

Much to achieve, just believe.

Guns, gods and greed

The seed grown, seeds of their own, on the wind they’ll be blown.

 Or from our hands they’ll be thrown all to cast the final stone.

Spreading death, division and despair – when thrice comes to bear.

The end may be near, a warning shot we’ll never hear.

But never fear.

Guns, gods and greed

Raise our arms to the skies, pop goes the fireflies.

Screams drown out the cries.

Close your eyes daylight dies, truth within, outside lies.

We laugh at others strife. Define who’s to be a wife.

Skewer the peace with our knife.

But soon we’ll all be saved – from life.

Guns, gods and greed

The  End

Steve Kittell 2014

A Village Common

Sticky rails, dewy morn

Subway faces look forlorn

Feet beating on the street

Odors rising in the heat

~

September day the city way

Some are sad, some are gay

Rusty bells bang classes start

Painted faces, not quite art

~

Weary eyes survey the new

Innocent hearts there are few

Minds awash in filth and hate

Darkened souls to be their fate

~

Though light shines through on some

Dreaming of times yet to come

When hearts, souls and minds align

Looking beyond billboards for a sign

~

On threadbare tight-rope they do run

Chasing demons just for fun

Where falls expected, ends are not

Where wars are fought on empty lot

~

Fears hidden behind the fists

Fighting for first to be kissed

Truths that smack tender young faces

Their belted thighs can win no races

~

Barrels boxed beneath their capes

Leaving ghostly chalky shapes

Surviving a life that’s never lied

Steely limbs loiter temping outside

~

Oaken doors barred welcome the flesh

Roots of common seeds for minds fresh

Packing more and more withering giants all

Broken floors, chairs too few and small

~

Sown in these asphalt fields un-green

Awaiting sunny nurture seldom seen

To savor and sow or pluck premature

To die in a vase or billow pure

~

Forgotten beauties, shades of greed

Learning can grow our common seed

Our schools this village that I speak

Where betwixt the slabs blossoms peek

~

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Share the Buzz

There once was a once upon a time.
Actually there’s many and some do rhyme.
So here it goes another like the rest.
It might not be the worst but won’t be the best.
~
Once upon a time there was;
bees in a garden sharing a buzz.
They flutter high and they flutter low,
they flit where they need to go.
~
They all know each other, each by name.
But humans think they’re all the same.
Unwittingly perhaps, speciesists are we,
but they don’t need us as we need the bee.
~
They grow our food and sweeten our tea,
an absolute necessity, don’t you agree?
So next time you see one, share their buzz.
Cos without them our once will be was.

~*~
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Snowflakes

 If no two snowflakes are the same,

When melted do they come back again?

How do all the storm clouds know,

What each other makes for snow?

 **

Though thought all different, ingredients same

Freely floating flakes, cousins of rain

Minuscule crystals suspended in lines

Destiny’s same – the kiss of sunshine

 *

Just another of natures’ follies, like we all

The higher the cloud, the faster the fall

The longer the blizzard, the deeper the strife

The hotter the day, the shorter the life

 .

Do we really care if snowflakes are the same?

Or are we just repeating an old silly game?

A game that can never ever be won –

When all the pieces melt in the sun

~*~

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