I started today with “WOW!”, though I don’t know how it ends.
I’ll have a stress-free day and share some time with friends.
I coulda started the day with “Aw sh*t, here we go again”
But we all know what’s gonna happen then.
~
I’m gonna live my life the way I live in my dreams.
But the life of a dreamer’s not always as it seems.
I’m gonna do something that makes me feel smart.
And a well-chosen word’s the perfect place to start.
~*~
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While bending over backwards to hold my tongue,
my head touched the dirt, and I twisted my lung.
My body flipped over, my knees smashed on the ground.
Pain then followed and a loud cracking sound.
~
I rose to my feet or so I had planned.
The pain overcame and my plan was panned.
Back on the ground writhing in disgust,
I choose expediency over timely self-trust.
~
One word unsaid was then none to follow,
my tongue now mends, yet heart remains hollow.
~*~
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~
Without our parents
We would all just be two halves
Somewhere else, maybe
~*~
sck092415
Circumstances change and change again.
So I’m not really sure how this poem’s to end.
What is real is unknown till done,
but time imagined has already begun.
~
The stars shine bright until the dawn.
The future awaits and then it’s gone.
Thoughts and visions obscure the truth;
a lack of years isn’t youth.
~
Recollections and experience color our days.
Points of view shade our ways.
Life’s the sonnet never ending,
verses abound, conclusions ever-pending.
~
If to see music and feel hues,
you’re gonna pay your f’n dues.
Reality’s then plain to see,
for the muse love’s too easy.
~
A note received punctuation’s unknown,
another twist with a faceless tone.
But all the words used then rearranged again.
And this too will be rewritten because there is no end.
~*~
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Today’s the thirteenth, as you may know.
The only Friday I wish would go.
Today’s the day to stay in bed.
Today’s the day I always dread.
~
Lock the doors and stay inside.
Tomorrow’s soon, today I’ll hide.
Luck’s for those who choose to wait.
Bad luck happens no matter the date.
~
Superstition is what we choose it to be.
But being safe is what matters to me.
We all can do as we may choose,
life and limb is yours to lose.
~*~
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~
Horrors penned in tomes of fear
Words unseen in a shadows lair
Forever night when cover’s tight
Wings blossom in morning light
Rolling stones gathering moss
When time renders motions loss
Unknown saints wear heavy cross
Unbound future our only boss
Times absorbed in a sponge
Fills the well to take the plunge
Return from pleasure, pre-desire
Or the heat of ice and frozen fire
Air-less caverns running swift
Bloodied quill the only gift
Flightless birds soaring high
Pages fluttering in endless sky
Spiraling upward for the crest
Touching down – needed rest
Sleepless specter, broken spine calls back
Ink floods lines, sheets fill black
Dark and light fill lengthy fall
Return we must to journey’s all
To do what’s right, a writers call
Recording all, big and small
~*~
sck101614
The waiting’s over, my time is here.
The day is new, let’s spread the cheer.
The sky’s blue and the grass is green.
The birds are singing, the future’s seen.
~
The morning began much the same.
Yesterday’s wishes never came.
Dreams of the night faded away.
Eyes now open to yet another day.
~
Something’s different, I don’t know why.
Perhaps it’s the cloudless, deep blue sky.
Maybe springtime has filled my head.
Or could my head is done with the dread.
~
I don’t know how much time I’ve to live.
I don’t know how much more I can give.
I don’t know and I don’t much care.
This feels so good I’d love a spare.
~
I do know how much more I can take.
But today’s the day that I would make.
Then make more for all to enjoy.
Peace and love to all us hoi polloi.
~*~
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The grand tour begins with the end of our days.
It’s the chance of a lifetime in so many ways.
There’s dining, dancing and then nightly plays.
Adventures await with views that amaze.
~
Space is quite limited, as are the beds.
Bikes are allowed as are your sleds.
We’ve goggles for eyes and helmets for heads.
We’ve ice cold drinks and jams for breads.
~
Its best that you hurry before it’s too late.
So write your checks now, why tempt your fate.
You’ll be envied by all, won’t that be great.
You can double the fun when bringing a date.
~
Mornings begin with a glorious sunrise.
The party starts when you open your eyes.
But first we’ve coffee, eggs and home fries.
Clothing is optional so forget useless ties.
~
If you like naps we’ve plenty of space.
If you like sports you can enter a race.
There are no losers or fallers from grace.
Time is scheduled to match your pace.
~
We meet at the station at ten on the dot.
But if you’re late we’ll save you a spot.
If you’re early you can borrow a cot.
Because dreams are best when awake we’re not.
~*~
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With a snowy blanket to ward of the chill,
deep in the forest a den lay still.
Then spring arrives, eyes soon gaze,
all that’s missed in the winter’s haze.
~
The most daring, of course, popped out first,
the second unsure but for their thirst.
While the last clung to their hungry mom,
till out she burst, not seeking calm.
~
In the new light the young family squinted.
Then in a blink the awed group splintered.
Mama was busy with breakfast in her sights.
The cubs were curious of nature’s delights.
~
Full of fear the timid cub sat alone.
With teary eyes closed all was unknown.
The adventurous pair now frolicked out of view.
Mama roared and they all knew what to do.
~
Back at the den the family again met.
Mama spoke firmly and new rules set.
Wherever she goes the cubs will too.
And what she says is what they’ll do.
~
Each a reason to not like what was said.
Each had ideas in their very own head.
Sticking together down the path they forged,
when new grass found for all to gorge.
~
A stream nearby was sure to taste nice,
it’s wintry fresh but cold as ice.
The foolish pair dove in and quickly back out.
The timid one laughed and mama was in doubt.
~
For the cubs it was their second spring.
But mama feared they hadn’t learned a thing.
Their season’s short with much to do.
Will her cubs be ready, she hadn’t a clue.
~
Back safe in their den all were glad,
bellies were full and fun was had.
The next day started much the same.
For two of the cubs it all seemed a game.
~
Grabbing for a beehive and to their surprise,
this prickled pair soon felt it unwise.
Fallen from the tree to roll down the hill,
a vacant hive was about to thrill.
~
While the humbled duo ran off in fright.
The shy little cub had lunch in sight.
With hardly a care they lunged for the treat.
Head first they met, the greeting sweet.
~
Mama returned hearing her cubs horrid wail.
But seeing her sticky one she knew the tale.
With a quick loving lick down the path she rushed.
At least for now one cub was hushed
~
Back at the stream the others found unharmed.
Mama’s relieved though still alarmed.
Did the cubs recall or was it a whim;
a lesson learned that bees can’t swim.
~
The bears then flew back, hasty to arrive.
There they all dove into that tasty hive.
The cubs soon napped and mama felt less fear.
And this is barely a story, unless you’re a bear.
~*~
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~
Searching in theory for relativity,
thoughts of you expanding constantly.
Feelings’ compounding exponentially,
your smile and warmth is my felicity.
With every kiss sparking electricity,
stars align lighting our intensity.
Our formula’s blending unequivocally,
biologically chemistry’s evolutionary.
Your infinite hues color a poet’s eccentricity,
soundly proving the love of you and me.
~*~
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I’ve come to notice a problem today.
The problem’s a word that poets say.
It’s actually a word we all overuse.
So I’ll create a new one as I choose.
~
This word, off course, is love you see.
It should be precise, but it’s used differently.
We all can love many, many things,
like puppies and babies and backyard swings.
~
But love is different when shared by two.
When the love you give comes back to you.
When every kiss is whole body felt,
when making love makes your mind melt.
~
When saying goodbye you can’t let go.
And time apart passes far too slow.
When holding each other’s hand feels just right.
And you fall asleep cuddling every night.
~
Now this poem’s getting long and I’ve still no clue.
But my time’s now for pondering, that’s what I do.
So I’ll share this thought with my lovely sweetheart.
And we’ll kiss and giggle then it’s back to the start.
~*~
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Happy mother’s day to you, happy mother’s day to all,
Oh happy day to the moms who raised us from small.
You gave us our life and fed us each day.
You gave us your youth and we gave you your gray.
~
You waited and worried when we stepped out the door.
You worked and you gave yet we still wanted more.
You smile when we’re sad and cry when we’re good,
our boo-boo’s made better and yours understood.
~
We give you this day because you gave us the rest.
We give you our troubles and you gave us your best.
So this day is for you for all the love that you’ve shown.
Now you’re finally appreciated, now that we’ve grown.
~*~
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Mother’s Day comes in May,
the perfect time of year.
Flower’s blooming everywhere,
share a bunch and spread the cheer.
~
Yet moms are here every day,
perfect from day one.
They watched us bloom from nowhere.
And their sharing’s never done.
~
So, one day a year don’t forget:
flowers, lunch and, of course, a card.
All those things are everywhere.
It shouldn’t be that hard.
~*~
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Patterns, Patterns seen, felt and heard,
some imaginary, some absurd.
Some are real and some deceive,
some are made to make us believe.
~
Time has a pattern, we call it time.
Life has a pattern, two sides of prime.
Joy’s pattern runs every other cycle.
The space between varies by psychal.
~
Identifying patterns is a chore or a game.
Seen from afar they all look the same.
Personal patterns are for us to decide.
Why be camo with nothing to hide?
~*~
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While searching for time I lost my mind.
With days to pass I’ve seconds to find.
A second helping or a second chance,
my heart’s ticking my feet yell dance.
~
Nature’s music fills my ears.
A show of hands notes the years.
A watch found strikes back at me.
Its shattered face says nothing’s free.
~
Beneath this glass all is well.
Time moves on and yet still I dwell.
Alarm bells ringing, my hour’s been found.
Wind me up, I’m timely bound.
~*~
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Mowers, blowers and flame throwers, it’s time to clean my yard.
Spring is here, just once a year, so it’s really not that hard.
Leaves and weeds and other debris will all just disappear.
And it only takes an hour or so, but my neighbors all live in fear.
~
The police get called and a laugh we share, when the yelling’s done.
The officer gave the thrower a try and had never had such fun.
The smoke finally clears; my work is done; it’s time now to relax.
I think I’ll wear shorts today and take off these flame-proof slacks.
~*~
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April showers may bring May flowers.
But it ruined my new suede shoes.
I was going out for a first date,
but now I got the blues.
~
Car wouldn’t start and my bike had a flat.
My cell phone bill was long unpaid.
I walked for nearly an hour,
my nerves tattered and frayed.
~
I got to the movie, it was too late,
my date was nowhere in sight.
I turned around and headed back home.
I was hoping for an end to this night.
~
The rain was getting heavier;
the wind started to blow.
I huddled in an alleyway.
I waited for the storm to go.
~
A policeman stopped, just to check,
making sure I was O K.
I told him the whole story,
every detail of that day.
~
He gave me a lift to my house.
But my keys I had locked inside.
My wallet too was forgotten,
I then went for another ride.
~
I made a call at the station;
my mom must have gone out.
I then retold my story;
the cops looked on with doubt.
~
They stuck me in a crowded cell,
I was tired, wet and cold.
The others asked what I was in for.
My story again was told.
~
Some thought it was funny;
some thought I was a fool.
One said I was cute,
he thought my shoes were cool.
~
I didn’t sleep at all that night,
afraid of what might come.
I shivered there for hours,
my feet were getting numb.
~
My mother finally showed up,
she strolled in at around noon.
She yelled that I should grow up.
I said I may and May can’t come too soon.
~*~
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All’s nothing, nothing more
Until it was as it was before
Now all’s now, nothing more
When all‘s nothing as before
~
sck071515
Every Sunday me and my Pop
Take a walk to the old sundries shop
Winter’s in boots and summer flip-flops
Anytime to the Cherry on Top
*
It’s not just a store, it’s so much more
A magic box filled with sundries galore
It’s everyone’s first and their last stop
All the time at the Cherry on Top
*
Welcoming doors always polished bright
Welcoming all to their sundries delight
Every week is a brand new crop
Any time at the Cherry on Top
*
A place with things too many to list
Lipsticks for lips that want to be kissed
There are bouncing balls and bats that bop
All the time at the Cherry on Top
*
Combs and brushes for hair and teeth
Halloween treats and Holiday wreaths
Baskets for bunnies with ears that flop
Any time at the Cherry on Top
*
Row after row of this’s and that’s
There are racks for jackets, hooks for hats
Handles for brooms and buckets for mops
All the time at the Cherry on Top
*
There’s cases packed with trinkets so bright
Batteries stacked for flashlights at night
They’ve got cards to send and cards to swap
Any time at the Cherry on Top
*
Way at the back, there’s medicines there
Carefully mixed by people who care
They carefully measure, count and chop
All the time at the Cherry on Top
*
Then the place – my favorite of all
It’s the lunch-counter, where I sit tall
Serving pie with whipped cream and gumdrops
Any time at the Cherry on Top
*
They’ve cakes, cookies, turkey and roasts
My dad always gets; juice, eggs and toast
Sunday’s best at the old sundries Shoppe
I get my sunday, cherry on top
~
The End
.
Sck102314
Why can’t I be a bumble bee?
Bumbling about, nectar’s free
I could hover or dash in a flash
Come home to a queen with my golden stash
~
I’d love to be a robin on the first day of spring
I’d soar from my nest and into the sky I’d sing
Perhaps a baby bunny, nibbling on fresh greens
I’d hop from clump to clump napping in-between
~
Maybe a child on their first new bike
That new sense of freedom that’s what I’d like
Until, of course, the inevitable fall
Some try again, some not at all
~
I want to be a billionaire
Living life without a care
A mighty oak would be grand
Or Saguaro cacti, kings of the sand
~
But I’m not, I’m just me
Thankful for the nature that I see
Writing of things I can’t be
Content with the puzzle of poetry
~
Sck050715
Hands rise
Weights fall
Chimes sing
Birds see
Cuckoos all
`
Keys twist
Springs wind
Gears mesh
Spindles turn
Hands unkind
`
Travel on
Sunny face
Divided lines
Hide numbers
Perpetual race
`
Hands fall
Weights rise
Chimes strike
Birds die
Cuckoo’s wise
`
Keys open
Spring trap
Hours Chime
Birds sing
Hands clap
`
Travel off
Years shock
Number’s turn
Time winds
Cuckoos clock
~
sck102714
I woke before the sun.
To have my morning fun.
But I couldn’t see my pad.
And my memory’s really bad.
~
I waited for the light.
To free me from the night.
But my pencil disappeared.
And my memory is as feared.
~
I found a piece of chalk.
But then I saw a hawk.
I forgot the task at hand.
I’m sure it would be grand.
~
I took a step outside.
The hawk flew off to hide.
A squirrel then ran past.
Man, are those guys fast!
~
The chalk now is dust.
My morning’s now a bust.
The sun’s now getting high.
And I now wonder why.
~*~
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rhymesalot 