humor

Pointlessnessness

There’s a change in the air,
its felt everywhere.
Will it be warmth or an icy blow?
Outside’s to venture to ever know.
~
The future nears,
with future fears.
The past’s a guide,
or where to hide.
~
Scrambled thoughts shaped in rhyme,
shadows mask the light of time.
Moments killed, perspective’s born,
clearly focused or forever torn.
~
Doors lock, window’s seen,
vistas vary with a lean.
Steps taken never still,
ups and downs, want and will.
~
At a point all paths meet,
minds move not feet.
Hearts feel, hands express,
lips promise; life’s a guess.

~*~
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Wordplay

From the loins of lions a kitten roars.
With tender purrs love’s yours.
When all’s safe peacefully snores,
all’s warm when all adores.
~
Tummies tickled rolled on floors,
time entwined never bores.
Gentle licks on all fours,
lap thrust emotion soars.
~
Hunger’s fed the nibble cures.
Partners always there’s never chores,
when all’s open no settling scores.
From the loins of lions, a winner of wars.

~*~
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Christmas Free

The holidays upon us,
I’ve yet to get a tree.
Am I a Grinch or a Scrooge?
Cos I think they should be free.
~
I look out my windows,
there’s plenty there to see.
I could hang some balls.
That’s good enough for me.
~
But the kid’s home soon,
she’ll want a tree.
She’ll get a sad little one;
it’ll be cheap but not quite free.
~
We’ll place it by the window,
decorated for all to see.
Christmas we’ll exchange gifts,
the best one’s free for me.

~*~
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Drip, Drip Dribble

Sorry to all for the dribble of late.
It’s been eight weeks since a fateful date.
T’was a muse unamused blew me away.
I left breathless for many a day.
~
Now it’s back to second guessing,
till that’s behind I’ve no caressing.
Bemused babblings, not ready to quip,
till then I fear just dribble from a drip.

~*~
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News from the Asylum

No news here!
It’s a sunny day,
bright and clear.
Birds sing everywhere.
~
Snuck a smoke on the roof,
I could see the town.
The police came,
they got me down.
~
Now the sunset,
no news yet.
I missed my supper,
cos I’ve no regret.
~
I broke the candy machine,
that made me sad.
But they can’t take breakfast,
for that I’m glad.
~
Bed time’s soon,
no news yet.
I like toast with butter,
But I sometimes forget.

~*~
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Oddly Bioanalytical

A poet doomed I’ve started believe’n.
The odds it seems much better than even.
T’was born on an even day, month and year.
And I’m a Libra to boot, if you care.
~
An INFP, I think that means I feel stuff.
And if that alone wasn’t enough,
I’m fair of skin, odd of weight and six feet even.
A poet doomed and my name’s even Steven.

~*~
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Green-ish

A heart broken and a headache,
memories treasured some are fake.
What was real now’s unknown,
was a blossoming love bastardly grown.
~
Dreams imagined time beyond,
souls follow seeking a bond.
In a flash the heart did know.
The brain debated to and fro.
~
Do we conjure a wishful illusion,
blending and blinding with confusion?
Or if not that then something worse,
a love once felt made in reverse.
~
The quest now’s for the spark,
for love at first sight in the dark.
Is my view shaded, am I now jaded?
Will sunny yellows glow when the blues faded?
~
If love’s to seek, love’s to find.
Who’s less important if not to mind.
Who to ask is where love will begin.
Answers start with the quest within.

~*~
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Rough Seas

bootcamp

Off to sea at seventeen
To see a world I hadn’t seen
To find a place to call my own
Youthful vigor, this child grown
~
This child grown yet not mature
Too many choices that’s for sure
Open eyes and open mind
Open mouth running blind
~
Open mouths words will flow
Open heart with nowhere to go
Met a gal, our short time grand
We toured my ship hand in hand
~
Phone calls followed, her “brother” met
One of a few I’d like to forget
He asked a favor, I obliged
I tried being good, I really tried
~
But all was not as it appeared
Soon a meeting that I feared
Spoke with my Captain, a man truly trusted
He sat me down and said I was busted
~
It was that sweet young gal, I adored
Was a narc I brought aboard
Years now past, I say what the hell
A sailor no more, but I’ve stories to tell

~*~
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Night & Day

I rose at sunrise hoping for light.
Solace unfound in the dead of night.
The sky was clear, the outside bright.
Dirty dishes in my sink obscured my sight.
~
Beauty’s framed between the panes.
Life’s contained within our brains.
The past raps our view in chains.
Hearts beat with bloody stains.
~
An hour passed and coffee’s done.
Distracted by clutter there’s no time for fun.
The future surrounds with nowhere to run.
Plans unmade have already begun.
~
Standing still won’t get you there.
Steps taken lead to somewhere.
Dreams awaken wishes to share.
Wishing only dreams awakens a nightmare.
~
Steady ground supports our feet.
Standing tall feels complete.
Second cups ready, I feel the heat.
And a little sugar helps make it sweet.

~*~
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Dwelling

Bed soon awaits this dreary day.
I wish sweet dreams would come my way.
I don’t want to fight or need to play.
I just hope tomorrow’s better than today.
~
I know this sounds gloomy, but I’ve only begun.
This poem could get worse or might be fun.
But we’ll have to wait until I’m done.
So let’s start again, this is line one.
~
Bed soon awaits this dreary day.
A day so dismal I’ve nothing to say.
But I didn’t get beat up or have dues to pay.
And that’s a lot better than it was yesterday.
~
Sad days are passing and heart’s mending well.
Tomorrow holds no promise or soul to sell.
My heart will beat again then I’ll joyously yell.
Now that sounds better, I’ve no longer to dwell.

~*~
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Post Conceptualization

Conceptualization is not relief.
Realization is not belief.
Hearts broken mend with time and care.
But minds always feel the ghostly snare.
~
Belief of spirit’s free to perceive.
Relief from spirit’s free to conceive.
Time’s broken with a half hearts beat.
Half or whole minds do trick and treat.
~
Demons follow, dreams lead.
Choices choose and hungers feed.
Giving more is to receive.
Getting less is no relief.
~
Belief in love costs to share.
Relief of heartache spirits dare.
Hearts retell with timely ticks.
Minds can conjure more treats than tricks.

~*~
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Tis

Loving’s easy to fall’s hard.
“Tis the life of this old bard”
Futures await a new sunrise.
Honesty’s seen feeling lies.
~
Eyes gaze upon another’s soul.
Walls unscaled take a toll.
When “I love you” whispered,
volume’s to oft heard.
~
The vision’s carried in the heart.
We’re to shed with care, as an art.
A curse, demon, gift or friend,
a love of love can never end.
~
Wheels turn, neutrals unknown.
Reverse a journey and forward’s grown.
Loving’s easy, to find’s hard.
“Tis the life of this old bard”

~*~
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Pro Epilogue

Here I sit with a heavy heart,
writing the end before the start.
A future seen and all was bright.
Yet alone we lay in the dark of night.
~
Now the unknown we’re again to face,
our yesterdays vanished without a trace.
Tomorrows will come, some will cry.
Death can consume before we die.
~
Spirits awaken if chosen to see.
Luck’s a gift, happiness free,
time is chance and life’s a friend.
Love’s a gamble, I bet to the end.

~*~
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Friggadoon

Century’s lost beneath a frigid sea.
A mystery shrouded from you and me.
One hundred years till the darkest of night.
A body shall be risen once gone from sight.
~
Subjects none, she’s a queen alone.
An island rests till her desire’s grown.
She’ll rise from the mist in fur, feather and scale.
Cloaked of face, she’s lovely beyond the pale.
~
Her quest is simple; to attain her reflection,
caught from a soul’s image of loves perfection.
Her call is silent, her essence shines through.
Once chosen, there’s none you can do.
~
Her attraction’s permanent, like flies on sweets.
And entice she does with her anticipated treats.
From a dream plucked, it’s her prey of late.
In a line they’ll stand with surety of fate.
~
Then only she will choose.
Who’ll be the winner this time to lose.
The others left bereft of heart.
Free for now to long another start.
~
The queen now quenched returns to her bed.
Her emptiness filled, rube’s again shed.
And the rest of us wonder of the tales that be.
Or am I to flounder in a flash of the sea?

~*~
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*In Brigadoon all roads lead to the future.*

Passionate Passage

Just a little exercise to see what I do,
I’m going the bathroom to write about poo.
I’ve fluffy white paper that floats from the wall.
And a sink nearby, in case I fall.
*
In a window with shutters I control the scene.
But the stench still oozes in-between.
There’s a mirror that magically hangs above.
It’s never quite straight, much like love.
*
The image’s the same no matter the tilt.
It tells no lies or feels no guilt.
I’ll wipe the smudges, the exercise through.
I passed the test but slipped in do.

~*~
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Forecasting Dribble

I woke this morning to see a new way.
My eyes watched the sun rise, my soul saw gray.
Love again felt and again lost.
A heart once warm’s now plagued by frost.

Winter’s coming and with it cold.
Time rushing forward’s getting old.
Nine months high on a dreamy cloud.
Then emptiness found beneath a shroud.

A future seen, maybes had.
Baggage lugged a journey’s sad.
Weighty pasts multiply fast.
Feelings divided never last.

Mind’s write the whether of the day.
And life moves on, or so they say.

~*~
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Presently Overly Scattered

A thought a glance a word or line.
What will inspire tomorrows’ rhyme?
It could be anguish or love, death or a bug.
Maybe it’s the past, future or running out of time.
~
Or maybe not, sometimes the present forgot.
A mind’s sometime scattered with distraction sublime.
Walls can be high and we leap or crash.
This time time leapt for today’s tomorrow’s rhyme.

~*~
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