Author: Rhymesalot

Found Lost

Lost in the sand

Can’t walk, cannot stand

Vultures above awaiting meat

Flesh melts from my feet

.

Waves of heat ride the tide of sands

Blisters ooze muddies bloodied hands

Flesh burned, pores yearn, salt sweat dried

Sandpaper eyes, tears boil un-cried

.

Times far behind, miles are ahead

The only dread now’s not being dead

Visions blurred, yet a figure seen

The end is near, they’re in-between

.

Once blindingly lost, in a blink found

Screaming a last breath yet not a sound

Inviting any – enemy or friend

Kill or cure, any end

 ~

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Morning Triku #59

The Hunger Haiku’s

 *

Drips End

 .

Precious little bean

Sweet with cream dream, water pure

Hot tonic to cure

~

Scrambled Emotions

 .

Warm and firm to touch

Smooth curves conform in cold hands

Crack, beat add to heat

~

Lustful Awakening

 .

Its length is lovely

Its girth is great – Goooood Morning!

Sausage on my plate

*

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Life Preserver

Sink into the depths of darkness and despair

Swim towards a horizon that never ends there

Or sink into my arms and I’ll never feel fear

Swim into my mind and we’ll never have a care

~

We will sink or we will swim, together or apart

And tears of joy or of sadness will be a rivers start

Sink or swim, we must all, in life, love and in art

Rivers run hot and cold depending on their heart

~

Sink or swim together or afloat on a ring we’ll share

Our buoyancy’s preserved when hearts beat as a pair

Sink or swim together and an adventure we will chart

Please take my hand, share my love and our voyage will depart

~

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Energy

We laugh and cry, we bleed and lie

We share, we care, we dare to fear

Hugs and kisses, winks and smiles

All hand in hand over infinite miles

~

With ears to hear and eyes to see

 Blending thoughts of you and me

This place unique, where all are free

 ~

A place like home wherever we roam

Our roaming’s recorded in cyber tome

Then blended together to build something grand

All made from our minds and energized sand

 *

 

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Bird Brain

I saw a bird in a tree.

I said “hey bird talk to me.”

He turned around, we had a chat.

I wrote it down and that was that.

We said good-bye and I flew home.

I sat right down to write this poem.

 *

But lost the notes stuffed in my vest,

And whence returned I found a nest.

“My birds prose lost, how can this be?”

I said “hey bird look at me.”

She looked down so she could see,

A babbling bird brain talking to a tree.

 *

I yelled “give back my notes in your nest.”

She returned the anger, on my vest.

I started to yell one more time.

Then thought; save the vest, forget this rhyme,

A cozy nest is better than a talking bird poem.

I just hope I think of something else when I get home.

~

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