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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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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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.
~
Sck072615
There was once three men,
took a trip on a boat.
The little ship sank.
No one could float.
~
The greedy man drowned,
weighed down by his gold.
The vain man prayed,
for the soul he had sold.
~
The poet swam.
What else could he do.
‘Twas just another day,
awash in blue.
~*~
sck060715
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.
~*~
sck120615
No earth. No trees.
No trees. No pulp.
No pulp. No paper –
for poets to sculpt.
No earth. No home.
Nowhere to roam.
No time left to moan and groan.
No one wants to die alone.
No one wants this to be.
This to be the world’s last poem.
~*~
Sck062415
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
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
~
sck111914
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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Perfection that’s habitual
Needing more – never full
The pain sharp – the prick dull
Time to numb – time to mull
Eyes cloud, feel the lull
Demons rest in my skull
Safe, blind, brilliant – habitual
Sck100214
~
A page from my book of dreams;
a tale of love, or so it seems.
I wake each day the dream doesn’t end.
Will she ever love me or shall I just pretend?
.
Technicolor visions and her scent in the air
Awaken from this dream I could never dare.
Her touch always welcome on my trembling skin.
When she says she loves me, my life will then begin.
.
Encounters of the flesh, too few to ever last.
Music of her voice now echoes of the past.
Sunlit voids surround were daylight once was bright.
Now only darkness brightens our rendezvouses of night.
~*~
Sck101114
Tho my pages may be numbered,
the funny’s unencumbered.
Cos I yam what I yam and you’re my sweet potato,
couldn’t be none sweeter that I’ll ever know.
~
I got no can of magic greens.
Ain’t got no bag of magic beans.
I sure ain’t got no knock-out punch,
but under this cap I’ve got a hunch.
~
With anchors weighed and pipe aglow,
sunset’s waiting, our past in tow.
A compass points to where forgot,
destination’s chosen, dockets not.
~
A course set to forward the future leads the way.
Tomorrow’s story’s drawn to us, colored by today.
And I yam what I yam and you’re my sweet potato.
So let’s open these hearts and see where we’ll go.
~*~
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Nose to nose and cheek to cheek,
hip to hip our passion’s deep.
Eye to eye we always see.
That I love her and she loves me.
~
With every touch warmth is felt.
Whispers shared, our bodies melt.
Lips meet and hands hold tight.
Sunshine ends our restful night.
~
The days begin with spirits high.
Outside we linger beneath blue sky.
We plan our day and time free.
When together we’ll be her and me.
~*~
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Toys are broken, now back to school.
Christmas is over, mom said that’s cool.
She rushed our breakfast packing our lunch.
My brother made faces, I gave him a punch.
~
He threw a banana, it hit mom’s head.
She spilled the milk, her face turned red.
Our dog ran in to save the day.
He licked up the milk and wanted to play.
~
We gave him some scratches and a treat.
Then mom tied shoes too tight on our feet.
We put on our hats, mittens and coats.
Mom packed our bags with books and notes.
~
We walked to the bus stop to meet our friends.
The bus pulled up and our vacation now ends.
The parents all smiled and waved goodbye.
Then home they went for some needed shut-eye.
~*~
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Good day to all and Happy New Year.
The time is now to persevere,
so out with the old and in with the new.
After all that’s all we can do.
~
While some woke hung-over some are well rested.
This day is new and soon we’ll be tested.
We’ve made resolutions, some we’ll forget.
Mistakes we’ve made and some we’ll regret.
~
Let’s rise above and all stand up tall.
Another chance is now given to all.
Its day number one, a new start begins.
Let’s heed our losses and embrace our wins.
~*~
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I woke today, the sky bright and clear,
a most pleasant way to start a new year.
The air, though cool, my coffee’s hot.
The world though tense, I’m gladly not.
~
With little reason to complain or whine,
my only resolution is to appreciate what’s mine.
And soon I’ll wake with a kiss my most dear,
a most pleasant way to start a new year.
~
She’ll awake to a smile and a loving embrace,
my future seen in her glowing face.
I’ll whisper thank you for the happiness we share,
a most pleasant way to start a new year.
~*~
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I woke today, yippee ki-yay.
I rushed downstairs to welcome the gray.
A little rain won’t make me blue.
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’ve much to do.
~
Resolutions are needed, more than a few,
but first a cup of my favorite brew.
The aroma awakens my primal needs.
My pad awaits my list of good deeds.
~
I’ll be less lazy and help pluck the weeds.
I’ll write about something everyone reads.
I’ll be nicer to friends and all others.
I’ll treat everyone like sisters and brothers,
~
I’ll respect this world as fathers and mothers.
I’ll throw a big party if given my druthers.
I’ll try to eat better and not get too plump.
I’ll waste less time perched on my rump.
~
I’ll smile more and not be a grump.
I’ll speak more kindly and be less of a chump.
I’ll say “I love you” every single day.
And I’ll start this New Year the very best way.
~*~
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My Love
A look, touch – A kiss
Hands, bodies – Tactile bliss
Love – Nothing’s amiss
~
My Friend
Heart strings stroked feel heat
Neck caressed long and sweet
Rhythm head to feet
~
Begin’d
How humans learned
They died for knowledge yearned
Trial and error’d
~*~
sck081214
Every thought’s a beginning.
Only ends come to pass.
Pursue with passion.
Smile in the glass.
Fog may surround.
This too shall pass.
The future awaits.
Get off your lazy ass.
The End
My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be
No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity
No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey
Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree
The End sck081514
Love, defined, I have no clue.
Time has taught each day is new.
Life has shown those days too few.
Joy is what we feel and do.
Home is where I wake with you.
And love, it seems, is the glue.
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Day to dusk and dusk to night,
night to dawn and a new day’s light.
Time as life cycles in a spectrum of hues.
Frequencies frequently dulled by blues.
~
Every second a shade setting a tone,
rainbows intensify when not alone.
Clouds engulf or stars shine,
wheels tint our chosen line.
~
Years may fly while hardships creep,
troubles fade when dreams we keep.
Brush aside the grays in a timely fashion;
pull pastels into a daily ration.
~
Day to dusk and dusk to night,
night to dawn and a new day’s light.
Alarms will sound and snoozes ensue.
The palette new, what color are you?
~*~
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rhymesalot 