Author: Rhymesalot

Bang

I pulled a trigger and I’m not proud.
There was no blood but it sure was loud.
I said some things I shouldn’t have said.
Words shot out and stuck in their head.
~
My friends’ brain exploded, oh what a mess.
It was a poor choice of words I do confess.
I brought up a secret from long, long ago.
I thought it resolved but I guess not so.
~
Should I be silent or edit my speech?
What is OK and what’s out of reach.
I’m sure they’ll call when the wound heals.
I’ve been there before, I know how it feels.
~
Years have gone by with never a slip,
while I watched them drown, sip by sip.
Was it so bad to call them a drunk?
Am I a bad guy, an ass or a punk?
~
I know it’s a sickness and not their fault.
But why’s intervention seen as an assault?
When they’re sober maybe then they’ll see,
they pulled that trigger long before me.

~*~
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Questionable Poetry

As a man I question my greed.
As a poet I question my need.
As a professional I question a lot.
As an artist it’s questions I’ve got.
~
As a pessimist my questions are tough.
As an optimist I question not enough.
As a slacker I question overtasking.
As one with answers I question the asking.
~
As a thinker I question the question.
As a lover I question the suggestion.
As a person I question my will.
And as of today I’m questioning still.

~*~
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Wizardly

In distant lands where wizards wandered,
a time of yore when magicians pondered;
a challenge was made by an illusionist of note,
shrouded in mystery and a long black coat,
~
The gifted were called to show their great skills.
But the contest prohibited charlatans and shills.
Prizes guaranteed and the winners get gold.
So come, one and all, both young and old.
~
Signs were posted all over the town.
Flyers distributed by a gal in a gown.
Entertainments galore and food aplenty,
there’s games for all, bet one win twenty.
~
The festival starts in two weeks’ time,
dancers await with jesters and a mime.
The town square was chosen for its large size.
The old mayor agreed but thought it unwise.
~
The time finally came and the lines grew long.
Musicians ushered with an enchanting song.
The adults drank heartily and the kids guzzled juice.
The sun was setting and the town felt loose.
~
Coins flowed freely and senses had a feast.
Scraps could be tossed to the fiercest of beasts.
Wrestlers tangled and the jugglers caught on.
Clowns peddled emotion and one had a swan.
~
The main event planned for nine on the dot.
Buy tickets early and reserve your spot.
Amazement ensured by the magical guests.
Great talents conjured for their enriching test.
~
The show started with a man in a hat.
His rabbit disappeared but that was that.
Next, a woman in a bright red cape,
she aimed darts at her husband holding a grape.
~
She only missed once but that was too much.
But now we know why he walks with a crutch.
The rest of the show was much the same.
Amateurs all whose tricks were all lame.
~
Last was the illusionist and the crowd all cheered.
But in a big puff of smoke they soon disappeared.
The crowd all clapped but thought there was more.
Was the show over? No one was sure.
~
The crowd grew feisty and refunds requested.
The contestants were angry and they too protested.
The search was on for this illusionist of note.
A rumor was spread they left with a tote.
~
Prizes not awarded and vendors unpaid,
workers left hanging and the square’s rent unmade.
The mayor too was missing, a plot was surmised.
Was the mayor the illusionist just well disguised?
~
Did he steal the money and then disappear?
Or was he a partner and a rank profiteer?
A week soon passed and all hopes grew dim.
Winter was coming and the feeling was grim.
~
Then on a Tuesday just after sunrise,
the town folk arose to a big surprise.
The mayor returned with the money filled tote,
with him a cat with a long black coat.
~
The town folk wondered what had he done.
Questions were asked but answers were none.
The mayor was unfazed by their nosy demands.
For those truly wizardly never show their hands.

~*~
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Way Misunderstood

I once dated a lady from Providence.
She had lots of degrees and I, little sense.
We went on a date and took a stroll.
She walked right into a telephone pole.
~
She fell down and scraped her knee.
Writhing in pain she screamed at me.
“My glasses unworn so I’d look good!”
I helped her get home as I should.
~
We cleaned her wound, it wasn’t that bad.
Our date was ruined and we both were sad.
I asked to see her again real soon.
We both agreed on the next afternoon.
~
I went to her house, she opened the door.
What she had planned I wasn’t sure.
She said come in; you can have your way.
What she said next, I couldn’t say.
~
She left the room and I got undressed,
thinking this better than I had guessed.
When she returned she gasped in shock,
while I was caressing a huge pet rock.
~
She soon started swinging and I ran out.
I stood naked outside, my lunch in doubt.
A misunderstanding ruined that day.
And I never did try her curds and whey.

~*~
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Gladly Today

I’m glad today I hadn’t died,
I got knocked out, but I survived.
It’s really just a normal thing,
though some worry it did bring.
~
It made me think of my life past,
and how an end could come fast.
It made me wonder what comes next.
A question that left me truly vexed.
~
Would the sun then still rise?
Will the spring amaze the eyes?
Will the summer bring the heat?
Will autumn leaves fill the street?
~
Will the winter bring cold and snow?
What other answers would I not know?
What other things would I miss,
a new grandchild’s first hug and kiss?
~
I then realized what life’s about,
its love and joy to never doubt,
and to help others when we can.
I’m glad today I’m a better man.

~*~
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Built To Last

Let’s all build a castle with some turrets and a moat.
Perhaps on an island reached only in a boat.
Built with our experience, we’re heavily fortified.
Nirvana lies within, unseen from the outside.
~
Visitors are always welcome. But your journey will be long.
There is no turning back, there is no being wrong.
When the door does open, quickly do step in.
Grab a stone, climb the stairs; it’s where you will begin.
~
Harmony will fill our time and slumber will fill our needs.
Petty wants and desires found but never feeds.
With the dawn arisen, with cheers we will feast.
The nightmares now are over; we’ve tamed our daily beast.
~
Years may pass and maybe more, but your day will come.
The steps that you’ve chosen are now greater than their sum.
Rising ever higher, the sky will come into view.
The dream is nearly reached but the rest is up to you.

~*~
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In a Flash

The wait is long, the reward sublime.
In search I am for the perfect time.
My heart is beating and lungs are full.
My mind is racing, I feel the pull.
~
I’m tired but wired, I can’t sleep a wink.
I think I’m unsure of whatever I think.
Thoughts of the past reflect on the now.
Tomorrow’s soon and the why, what and how.
~
I sat and I pondered; what am I to do?
A question confounded by where, when and who.
Then in an instant the answer was clear.
A fool am I, the time now is here.

~*~
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Dynamic Static

The light of day now masks the dark.
Anxiously I await the mornings’ spark.
I watched the sunrise in the sky.
But all’s not bright and I know not why.
~
My pencil stays sharp as my coffee gets cold.
The day is young but the wait’s getting old.
Thoughts are pulsing through my mind.
Though a common thread I cannot find.
~
The world’s in turmoil but I am well.
Sales are soaring but the markets fell.
Patience grows short while lines grow long.
The weak sucked in when winds blow strong.
~
Yet we’ll charge ahead into the unknown,
every interaction affecting our own.
Each breath a conduit to another’s life.
All will share their joy and strife.
~
A new day’s begun, much as before,
we’ve only a guess of what’s in store.
The time is now to show our concern.
The window’s open to see if we learn.

~*~
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System Stalled

Like a boat without a dock,
it’s another week of writer’s block.
I drift around aimlessly,
tossed about on a wordless sea.
~
The sun still rises every day.
But all the thought’s gone astray.
The tides do rise and again will fall.
It’s sink or swim because that’s all.
~
Equipped with pen and a pad,
afloat I’ll stay and won’t be sad.
The pages will fill, soaked in sweat.
The ink will dry with no regret.
~
The sands of time will shift once more.
My anchor will drop on a distant shore.
The vistas there will all be new.
Perspectives’ will change, as they do.
~
Horizons are always just ahead.
The breeze will lead to where we’re led.
I can’t complain, this journey’s been good.
So I’ll keep thrashing as we should.

~*~
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Pencilicillin

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.

~*~
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Loco Motion

I’ve nothing to write, nothing to say,
nothing to do this fine spring day.
I’ve nothing to wish for, nothing to dream.
I’ve no reason to belt out a scream.
~
But scream I will if I choose,
what the hell, I’ve nothing to lose.
Well, maybe a little, as we all do.
But if you choose I’ll scream with you.
~
Feeling better, so do I,
now to enjoy the morning sky.
That was easy, why’d I wait?
I woke up neighbors but I feel great.
~
It’s always good to blow off some steam.
It’s always faster than it would seem.
If you’re not moved, stay out of the way.
Good morning to all, have a nice day.

~*~
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Reality’s Dreamt

Confined in a box within our visual sphere,
we search for direction hoping that it’s near.
Clouds confound the senses making life unclear,
we run to our horizons but a new will appear.
~
The earth is standing still hurtling through space.
Our seconds are but few in this universal race.
Feet compound the miles speeding up the pace.
Steps left behind we hope will leave a trace.
~
The sun will rise again when yesterday is through.
Darkness always follows shrinking our world view.
Dreams come into focus when the brain gets a clue.
Our eyes both close and open but reality’s up to you.

~*~
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Questionable Sanity

My mind’s blank but I can’t complain,
it’s certainly better than being insane.
But if I was, how would I know?
Would I feel high or way down low?
~
Would I be happy or angry or sad?
Would I be good or be really bad?
Could I still write? Could it be read?
Would I know if I were alive or dead?
~
Would I be recognized by friends I meet?
Would I wander aimlessly up and down the street?
Would there be a reason for the questions I ask?
Could I complete a minimal task?
~
Would I care or would I hide in shame?
Or would my life be pretty much the same?
I don’t have the answers, at least not today.
But if I’m asking, I’m probably OK.

~*~
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Love is

Love is; the poem too long to write.

A canvas painted in light,

blending all the colors white.

 

The song too high to sing.

Timeless symbology of token ring,

endless joy two will bring.

 

A tug of war, win less win more.

Always warm beyond the door,

in sickness there’s no better cure.

 

Too follow and be pursued.

Feeling comfy in the nude.

Subtle glances never misconstrued.

 

Sheets full – to be continued…

 

 

sck080914

Time for Time-Out

timeoutimg002

Time for time-out it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

*

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

*

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

*

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

*

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

*

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that isn’t all.

*

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

*

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

*

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

*

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

*

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

*

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

*

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

*

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

*

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

*

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

*

The End

sck2014

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

Morning Triku 181 ~ If the Shoe Fits

Turning Point

You’re paranoid when
you use turn signals to turn
in your own driveway.
~

Not Berry Funny

You know you’re aging
When you imagine Aunt Bea
with long flowing hair.
~

Slowly Evolving

Inspired today
by a long walk in the woods,
one foot at a time.

~*~
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Dreams Anew

~

Future’s ensured when the memorable made.
Bonded in eternity masterpieces don’t fade.
Yet loves pass, forever to be missed.
Tomorrows will come, forever kissed.

Hearts beat to dream anew.
A renaissance begun, there I flew.
Quills soar on a canvas bright.
Hand in hand we discover flight.

She’s a cherub’s smile on a face aglow.
This lady in waiting waits no more to know.
My love of her paints a sight to gaze.
Her love of me sets my soul ablaze.

Though errors burn, wheels turn and theories churn.
Creators learn bodies yearn and lovers earn.
Perspectives meeting clarity’s found.
Illusions disappear when love’s all around.

The sun forges to sharpen our sights.
Stars observed observe our shimmering nights.
We’ll build our castle high with arches strong.
Our suppers last as the day is long.

Here the sonnet and song never ends.
Painted in today time suspends.
For the Mona Lisa you are to me.
And for you, I am your da Vinci.

~*~
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Whereabouts Unknown

I know not where I’m going
but I know where I’ve tread
The paths blindly followed
only lead to where we’re led
~
The unknown can be scary
when comfort is preferred
Roads are often rocky
best left to the undeterred
~
Some hills will be high
with valleys Oh-so deep
The ups and downs are free
but their cost is surely steep
~
Standing at a crossroad
horizons come in view
Directions now seem endless
The first step’s up to you
~
The easy route taken
destinations will appear
The choice is yours to make
The journey has no fear

~*~
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Start to Finish

While cleaning up my desk,
I paused to take a look.
Under years and years of mess,
I chanced upon a notebook.
~
Scribbles filled the sheets,
doodles blurred the sides.
Leaf by leaf a pattern grew,
much like the changing tides.
~
Up and down my life’s gone by,
pretty pictures were for show.
Themes were abundant,
my feelings to and fro.
~
Reaching the cardboard end,
an epiphany spiraled fourth.
Each page was incomplete,
like a compass without a north.
~
My direction undecided,
goals were scrapped with ease.
My life’s been but a metaphor,
as is a whisper in the breeze.

~*~
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