Month: July 2025

Well, Almost

We live on a sphere, well almost,
surrounded by air, they the host.
Warmed by a star, pulled by a moon.
We’ve day and night, both come too soon.
~
We’ve loads of life but most unseen,
covered in rock, water and green.
There’s lots of smells, feelings and sounds.
We’ve love and laughter, yet danger surrounds.
~
Failures abound, they’re always free.
We’re fully exposed to freely see.
We can be tasteful, and risk being eaten.
We can be colorful but risk a bad beaten.
~
Lie, cheat and steal and then freely boast.
We’ve the freedom to choose, well almost.
We’ve still time to finish what we start.
Well, almost there; war or art?
~*~
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Silence

Can you hear it, it’s all around?
The mind is still, there’s not a sound.
Eyes see there’s nothing new.
But change felt, the outside’s blue.
~
The darkest hours now muted.
Beating seconds, time’s diluted.
In my heart the view less shaded.
In my soul the hue’s faded.
~
Digging deep to find the light,
shadows shorten out of sight.
Echo’s silent, notes scream.
Good nights calling, again to dream.

~*~
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Thank You

The page is blank as is my mind.
My day begins; I’ve words to find.
The sun has risen and coffee’s hot.
My pencil’s ready, words are not.
~
I hear the bird’s morning song.
I can feel the heat getting strong.
I see the trees that fill my view.
I know these moments are too few.
~
The page has words to my surprise.
The world has opened before my eyes.
Nature’s gifts now fill my head.
Thank you, world, my need’s been fed.

~*~
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Preposthumously

~

Madness I fear will be the death of me

Consumed by the visions I can’t see

The seconds tick then nevermore

Till striking back as before

~

Each a check of our resolve

Chipping away as hands revolve

Digging holes to make a mound

Stood atop but gained no ground

~

Vistas grown, views confined

Points made with pieces of mind

Scattered thought eludes the pen

The gates of hell burst open again

~

Blackness surrounds the flame within

Awaiting the battles to begin

The angel of darkness hangs overhead

Above the light that swallows her dead

~

Mountains whither, canyons fill

All in time, time will kill

Consumed in shadows of mortality

Death I fear is the madness in me

~*~

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The Art of Living

~

From hand scrawl on a damp cave wall

The stroke of genius to start it all

And then another, discovered recall

A timely chance, the past in freefall

.

The renaissance screams in-between

Painted queens upon medieval scenes

To modern memes of tomorrow’s dreams

Our nows are relative or so it seems

.

Hung to transcend drawn to a friend

Contemporaries’ always free to lend

Future’s descend, questions to tend

Conclusions offend but only one end

~*~

sck020816

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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Let’s All Build Forts

As a tot I built forts up on my bed

Then Bedtime took them away

as a kid built castles in the sand

Tides washed those away

*

As a teen built hideouts in snow

The sun melted all away

As a young man built other‘s dreams

While mine were slipping away

*

Now I build wordtopias that I call my own

A place where imagination’s never outgrown

In these stories are steps with no ends

There’s a place big enough for all my friends

*

With paper tents and pencil posts

we’ll grab some time and share a toast

so if you’re ever passing by this way

Come enjoy a fort that’s building a sunny day

*

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Kitty Cat Chat

My little kitty talks to me.
She changes the channel on my TV.
And shows me things I don’t see.
But I never argue, I just agree.
~
Her day begins before sunrise.
I see her starring in my eyes.
Her only word is no surprise.
Up! Up! Up! She loudly cries.
~
To the kitchen we’ll both head.
She’s always happiest when she’s fed.
I’ll fill her bowl then back to bed.
Her heartfelt “Thanks” is always said.
~
My alarm goes off at seven or eight.
My kitty tells me if I’m early or late.
Either way we’re feeling great.
High-fives and head bumps we celebrate.
~
Then off to school but she’s alone.
She says goodbye with a sad little moan.
Someday she’ll learn to use a phone.
But for now that skill’s unknown.
~
I’m welcomed home, I see she’s played.
I clean up all the mess she’s made.
She’s fed again and smiles we trade.
We’ll say goodnight then off we fade.

~*~
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Gigawhat

It might be age, I really don’t know,
but I liked it better when things were slow.
Cars are too fast and so is the news.
Just to keep up we wear running shoes.
~
Everybody’s rushing but never in time,
pushing and shoving, no reason or rhyme.
We hustle and bustle to make others rich.
Then we get a slogan: “Ain’t life a bitch”.
~
The economy’s crazy and DC’s a joke.
The great halls filled with mirrors and smoke.
Yet time’s the same as it always was,
long before smartphones and the digital buzz.
~
Peaks are reached, valleys to follow,
real intelligence needed surviving tomorrow.
As the pendulum swings to and fro;
balls get slammed, this I know.

~*~
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Quietly Dreaming

A story’s brewing; it’s felt in my heart.
Yet I’ve to find the end, middle or start.
I think it’s close but it could be far.
The damage done and left a scar.
~
The image is blurry and makes no sense.
I’m hangin’ out with a guy named Pence.
We’re trapped in a cell with fancy drapes.
There are no cigarettes but everyone vapes.
~
Our lofty guard is seven feet tall.
He brings us bread and that is all.
P’s is white and mine is wheat.
But we don’t mind, it’s something to eat.
~
P tells stories of his glorious time.
I write fast and make it all rhyme.
He worked for a king, second in charge.
His duties were light but his paycheck large.
~
The lights go out at ten o’clock.
The guards go home and we all rock.
Music starts jammin’ in a cell nearby.
The place gets smoky and we all get high.
~
Our eyes grow heavy then we all dream.
We awake at sunrise to coffee with cream.
The king too presides in a cell downstairs.
It’s dark and damp but no one cares.
~
The king has a wife he no longer sees.
She crawled off to Russia on her hands and knees.
Though his kids live here, their just down the hall.
They all got snatched while attending a ball.
~
Now tuxedo’s in tatters and gown’s a mess,
the truth was clear, no need to confess.
So maybe this story’s no story at all.
It may be a nightmare, I can’t recall.
~
Though being in jail I wasn’t keen.
But comfort is felt when the future’s seen.
I did get released, no word of the rest.
And all ends well, their silence being best.
~
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Heartache, Headache, Backache and Optimism

I need to write something to cheer me up,
maybe a fairy tale, a trip or new pup.
But no love stories, not any more.
I failed at that before.
~
Now something brighter, no emotion at all.
I won’t have to see it if I write really small.
Perhaps of worlds unknown, can’t be wrong,
something airy and mellow maybe a song.
~
I’ll write of the stars and space beyond,
or of rippled reflections of ducks on a pond.
Or I won’t write at all, I’ll learn the fiddle!
Nah, I’m just kidding and cheered up a little.

~*~
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Trippin

Plans have been made
and the weekend’s here.
An adventure will be had
but apart from my dear.
~
I’ll think of her while driving
and call at every chance.
I’ll dream of her when sleeping,
cuddled in romance.
~
I’ll spend my time distracted,
longing to return.
I’ll share my day with loved ones
but not the one I yearn.
~
Whilst my head will follow
wherever I may roam,
my heart will always be
at our happy home.

~*~
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Transcendental Jubilation

bubbles

Weekend’s wonderful when with you.
Our day now beckons with much to do.
First a tasty lunch and a little walk,
holding hands we’ll laugh and talk.

Then off to party in the mystical wood.
Where children will frolic and all is good.
We’ll share a sunset and see a show.
We’ll sing along to songs we both know.

Home again, the hour’s now late.
We’ll snuggle a bit and plan our next date.
Though days or nights jubilant whatever we do.
The time transcends when alone with you.

~*~
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Imagine That

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.

~*~
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Write On Time

The colors of morning fill sleepy eyes.
A blank page awaits today’s sunrise.
Dreams are fading with a new day’s start.
Reality awakens with love in my heart.

Thoughts of you fill my scrambled mind.
Words are brewing but they’re yet to find.
Passion’s tricky to express in rhyme.
Though volumes written for you in time.

~*~
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