poetry

Heartache, Headache, Backache and Optimism

I need to write something to cheer me up,
maybe a fairy tale, a trip or new pup.
But no love stories, not any more.
I failed at that before.
~
Now something brighter, no emotion at all.
I won’t have to see it if I write really small.
Perhaps of worlds unknown, can’t be wrong,
something airy and mellow maybe a song.
~
I’ll write of the stars and space beyond,
or of rippled reflections of ducks on a pond.
Or I won’t write at all, I’ll learn the fiddle!
Nah, I’m just kidding and cheered up a little.

~*~
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Trippin

Plans have been made
and the weekend’s here.
An adventure will be had
but apart from my dear.
~
I’ll think of her while driving
and call at every chance.
I’ll dream of her when sleeping,
cuddled in romance.
~
I’ll spend my time distracted,
longing to return.
I’ll share my day with loved ones
but not the one I yearn.
~
Whilst my head will follow
wherever I may roam,
my heart will always be
at our happy home.

~*~
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Transcendental Jubilation

bubbles

Weekend’s wonderful when with you.
Our day now beckons with much to do.
First a tasty lunch and a little walk,
holding hands we’ll laugh and talk.

Then off to party in the mystical wood.
Where children will frolic and all is good.
We’ll share a sunset and see a show.
We’ll sing along to songs we both know.

Home again, the hour’s now late.
We’ll snuggle a bit and plan our next date.
Though days or nights jubilant whatever we do.
The time transcends when alone with you.

~*~
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Imagine That

Imagine that, I’ve nothing to write.
I got up early and stayed up all night.
So I’ll make something up, if that’s OK.
I’ll probably live it some other day.
~
It could be happy or it could be sad.
It could be of some old adventure had.
I’m sure there’ll be others and why not.
Though most quite small, I’ve had a lot.
~
Perhaps a poet imagined that lives on a hill.
They’ll watch the sunrise and do what they will.
That might be good for a poem or two,
or maybe a love sonnet, maybe a few.
~
With these pages hands turned with time,
each face a story, each await their rhyme.
Each chapter has its title, the next to depend.
Tho thy tome grows heavy, I wish it no end.
~
I’ll imagine a tomorrow when something’s to write.
I’ll get up early and stay up all night.

~*~
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Write On Time

The colors of morning fill sleepy eyes.
A blank page awaits today’s sunrise.
Dreams are fading with a new day’s start.
Reality awakens with love in my heart.

Thoughts of you fill my scrambled mind.
Words are brewing but they’re yet to find.
Passion’s tricky to express in rhyme.
Though volumes written for you in time.

~*~
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Sandpaper

I know not how this came to be

Or when the sun shall rise

Or how the glowing sunset

Disappeared before my eyes

~

The streets are full of evil

The dead roam the night

Whilst the darkest of the darkness

Survive till mornings light

~

With every passing cloud

Across the lunar face

I step into the shadows

Leaving not a trace

~

Yet tread I must

Feeling blind

Touch is unfamiliar

Fearing those of kind

~

Where all are equal

When none’s to gain

We all are free

To share the pain

~

All paths uncertain

When never to be seen

All life is questioned

When living in the mean

~

Colors may return

To these blackened eyes

Head facing upwards

Awaiting bluer skies

~

And in the hour-glass

The sands of time do fall

Space above buries the low

Lest the destiny of all?

~

Rushing to an end

That is but a taper

Slipping into despair

To bleed on sandpaper

~*~

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Step by Step

Each step a step for us to rise,
to see our peaks we are wise.
To trip and fall’s our shared fate.
To try again is to never wait.
To lend a hand or push and take,
the view’s the choice for us to make.
The time we spend returned in kind.
The love we give gives peace of mind.
The love we’re given’s without whys,
each step a step we did rise.

~*~
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Life’s a Beach

Simple words writ in sand

Sculpted with a simple hand

Words of meaning I can’t hide

Yet disappear in the changing tide

 ~

Time takes all that we need

Gives anew to thus be freed

And toil we must to hold our ground

While standing straight on a world that’s round

 ~

By day, by night we return to see

Miles for shore await you and me

We’ll mold our lives in these sands

We’ll rewrite “I love you”, holding hands

 ~*~

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It’s Time

Lifelong habits surely die hard;
new routines are an old canard.
But time for now is all my own,
a new sensation since I’ve grown.
~
I’m gonna ride my bike and stay up late.
I’ll play my guitar until I’m great.
Ice cream for lunch at four o’clock.
Then feed some gulls at the dock.
~
With walks to the hill for sublime sunsets,
life will be as good as it gets.
Plans for the future now fill my head.
But all that’s tomorrow, it’s time for bed.

~*~
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Stuck

My poem starts today at its sticky end.
It began with a letter that I didn’t send.
I penned my emotions, sealed it with a kiss.
I hoped when she read it she’d too feel bliss.
~
I couldn’t buy a stamp so I threw it all away.
True love would be found, just not today.
Many years now past, stamps still make me sad.
I was one lick away from never feeling bad.
~
Life teaches lessons, some are hard to learn.
So don’t let hesitation steal what you yearn.
Take the final step, finish what you’ve started.
A tiny bit of glue could fix the broken hearted.

~*~
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The Declaration of No Hindrance

This holiday has begun;
later on we’ll have some fun.
The ice is broken, the heat’s returned.
Now the fireworks we’ve long yearned.
~
A sunset shared on the beach,
loving arms now in reach.
Colors burst in the skies,
starlight sparkles in your eyes.
~
Booms and bangs heard all around.
Lips will meet without a sound.
The future’s now, we’re on our way,
happy Independence Day.

~*~
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Believe It Why Not

I have a plan to save mankind.
I’ve just a few things left to find.
First is a place we all can hide.
It’ll need big windows to feel outside.
~
Next is food, but we can’t be too picky,
just nothing too spicy, gooey or sticky.
There’s coffee, for sure with sugar and cream,
then a really big bed for all to dream.
~
We’ll need some music so bring guitars.
Smoking’s optional but no cigars.
There’s no heavy drinking or hard drugs.
No need for violence or unruly thugs.
~
There will be no jail or a court.
So bring no weapons of any sort.
We’ll all need to promise to get along.
It sounds pretty easy, what can go wrong.
~
You’ll never find a happier place.
It’ll fill up fast so reserve your space.
Now one last thing before I take leave;
it’s best not come if you can’t believe.

~*~
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Odds Are

In the shadow of a city a child was born.
Decades festered to bubbling scorn.
His body grew large, his head grew bigger,
the search then on for a prized gold digger.
~
On tabloid pages their faces were strewn,
with scandals, bankruptcies and words of a goon.
Followed by lawyers paid a great sum,
ensuring victims would always stay mum.
~
While spreading his hate he found his niche.
And being a narcissist he saw no glitch.
He bolstered and bragged about a huge brain.
Some saw a genius, others felt pain.
~
Despite all his faults a following was had.
His greatness he shared, the world was sad.
Money poured in from sources unknown.
Bull shit prospered and a candidate was grown.
~
A show was hatched, reality lacking,
the outcome was known, dependent on hacking.
Conspiracies hurled, truth unconsidered,
fears unleashed and thinking dithered.
~
A president forged by the art of the steal.
In a backseat he waved with a spy at the wheel.
An immigrant descended a hypocrite ascended.
The “We” now he or so he amended.
~
A king is made with prince and princess.
While the queen hung back at a different address.
A cabinet assembled to kiss his fat ass.
Powers promised to those who could pass.
~
Those dismissed soon wrote a book.
Others were jailed for being a crook.
Impeachment inevitable, a sigh of relief,
a shakeup at justice led to more grief.
~
Leadership needed toward the end of his term.
But the mask’s inconvenient because of his perm.
Independence day past (let that sink in…),
freedom being fragile when destroyed from within.
~
The summer is here though different than most.
As the deaths in this nation is nothing to boast.
But autumn will come and the chips will fall.
A choice we will make, winner takes all.

~*~
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What A Day

In the still of a new day’s dawn,
quiet of mind and blissfully drawn,
all’s free when darkness gone.
~
Sun’s arisen, shadows loom,
sounds of day muffle the gloom,
stones to turn, bloom or doom.
~
The hour golden, day’s soon to fade,
moments collected, time’s paid,
life’s spent, remains made.
~
Day concedes, moon’s on the rise,
countless stars fill endless eyes,
space between kept wise.
~
Dreams await, troubles naught,
loops thrown, catches caught,
my day was what was thought.

~*~
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Forgotten

Was a cold winter’s day and there’s nothing to do.

Same as yesterday, nothing’s new.

So I took a trip to the attic to look for words and a view.

The crisp winter color of sky and water, reflected in deep icy blue.

 ~

The cobwebs hang heavy, there’s nothing new to explore.

Cold and flustered I stumbled back to the steps and slammed the door.

I went back downstairs and took some time to reflect.

Those things worth finding shouldn’t be that hard to detect.

~

Unless of course what seems lost, was never really had.

Though loses always remembered, it’s the forgotten that make us sad.

 ~

I went back upstairs where memories go to rest.

Pushing through the spider’s webs, to that place I like best.

It’s just a seldom seen pane of glass that compares to no other.

It’s a picture perfect painting, painted in the seasons changing color.

 ~

I sat upon a shaky box hiding something long forgot.

Steamy breath fogged the glass creating what can’t be bought

I viewed the shifting shades of pinks and blues that end every day.

Then I shared the chill with the fading sun falling into the bay.

~

Turning from dusk to shades of infinite grays with shadows intertwined.

I lightly step, hands outstretched and leave my little pane behind.

*

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