Work is looming,
my mind is zooming.
The clock is no friend.
The day’s yet started,
yet I wish its end.
~
The future’s bright,
if just to fight.
But time does run.
The race beats on,
to the rising sun.
~
The past’s the guide,
gloom’s to subside.
Better moments await.
Tomorrow we’ll see,
if not too late.
~*~
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History tells of brother’s scorn,
clawing their rise with tooth and horn.
One’s to rest upon tomorrows throne,
a golden perch to call their own.
~
Eyed by others to take that place;
the hidden, visceral and puckered face.
With but one to thrive each will strive,
who will choice to stay alive?
~
While kings of yore as knight once shone,
kings that bore by night just moan.
But history bores so I’ll say no more,
mysteries conclude in days for sure.
~*~
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She’s the radiance of a sunset,
I hope to never end.
She’s the softness of a petal,
on the rose I’d love to send.
~
My imagination hears her voice,
with every gentle breeze.
My life would fill with thank you’s,
if only I could please.
~*~
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With the risen sun,
our day’s begun.
There are things to do,
quite a few.
The moon will rise,
to blacken skies.
~
Life’s to rest,
tomorrow’s guessed.
Then to sleep,
dreams to seep.
Then rising anew,
sunny or blue?
~*~
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Sun’s soon to rest
Sky’s ablaze
Moon’s on the rise
Stars to gaze
Soon we’re to sleep
The vision stays
~*~
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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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Ebbs and flows
Highs and lows
When will it stop?
Nobody knows
~
Sometime content
Other times mad
One minute happy
The next one’s sad
~
Sometimes I write
Morning, noon and night
Then in an instant not
All my thoughts just forgot
~
But tomorrow will come
And change there’ll be
Good or bad
Being down’s up to me
~*~
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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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Sunrise’s heard, they paint with rain.
They feel joy and others pain.
They fall in love with the greatest of ease.
They sculpt our dreams as they please.
~
Sunsets beckon their stars to shine.
Heartbreaks linger, the rush divine.
Past souls tread to futures new.
Their blood’s read erasing the blue.
~
Their time shared with all, but few.
Though recounting seconds is what poets do.
~*~
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A sea of change now just offshore,
though the breeze not as before.
An icy swell I was cast,
drowned in the sands of the past.
~
Sailors sink and they swim.
Up’s the course when all is dim.
Endearing winds happen fast.
Direction lost when left aghast.
~
Within our chest all’s in reach.
Good mates know the knots to teach.
Times fills space with endless contrast,
degrees between forever vast.
~
Sun’s will rise when darkness shed,
horizons always just ahead.
Thought smooth sailing can never last,
destinations await ye ole enthusiast.
~*~
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I spend my days dreading the night.
Heart’s beat soundly but I don’t want to fight.
Writing’s dark, so I turned off the light.
Maybe the next life will be alright.
~*~
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Moonlit melodies of tales great;
a princess awaits a frog of fate.
Magic kissed an imagined pair mate.
But to croak to soon is to be too late.
~*~
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I woke this morning without a thought.
Inspiration and ideas today are naught.
I’m not depressed, just a little blue,
trying not to be stressed but so much to do.
~
These past few years filled with good and bad.
Happy at times but I feel more sad.
Love was had and gone, felt again but lost.
Now to love again I fear the cost.
~
Heart’s fragile, just a throbbing lump.
Mind’s cluttered like a dump.
My soul burns for a sunny day.
My body aches for a better way.
~
Feeling flush or torn to shards,
time it seems, holds all the cards.
What’s the deal, I ask with reservation.
Rise and shine or be dulled with hesitation.
~*~
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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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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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With each day we do learn,
life is more than we yearn.
Responsibilities never end,
more to share and to lend.
~
We give and take for others sake,
returns in kind for us to make.
Care is given when received.
Truth abounds when not deceived.
~
Time propels, weights constrain,
with each second the past we gain.
Hearts and minds of equal measure,
balance stacked for us to treasure.
~
Skies brighten and again to dim.
Stars don’t shine on a whim.
Thinking love, feeling wise,
tomorrow’s I hear are before our eyes.
~*~
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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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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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Counting the days till days don’t count,
there’ll be no worries or any doubt.
There’s never to be a frown or a pout.
I could stay in or I can go out.
~
Counting the days for my time to sprout,
I’ll get up late with nothing to think about.
I can be really quite or scream and shout.
I’ll always be mellow and never freak out.
~
Counting the days to assume some clout,
each moment’s new with adventures to scout.
Destinations will be celebrations to tout.
The sun will shine with or without
~
Counting the days thought getting stout.
All will be friends, but for the lout.
I’ll need no maps and never to rout.
I’m never locked in or lucked out.
~
Counting days before the days run out,
when never a tear or ever a drought.
Choices all mine, all else to flout.
And blessings counted before checking out.
~*~
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The irony of poetry is empathy’s hard.
For the poet must feel without regard.
A give and take crossroads born,
the soul deep, the deeper torn.
~
The weight of words a heavy load,
if not to express then to implode,
Fictional thought won’t save the day.
The reality is hearts bleed anyway.
~*~
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As a boy I walked the beach every day.
I stared at the horizon to find my way.
Visions of tomorrow filled my head;
days without fear and a true love to wed.
~
Ripples between obscured the view.
Sink or swim’s all I could do.
Years thrashing to stay afloat,
my life preserver’s gone and I no boat.
~
From the storm a distant shore arose.
Memories conjured with sand between her toes.
With a youthful splash and mind in the skies,
yesterday’s future floated before my eyes.
~
Was a summer returned, the same and new.
That time’s now gone but dreams came true.
The boy now grown, ending his wait.
If a past meant to be it wouldn’t be late.
~*~
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As a boy I walked the beach every day.
I stared at the horizon to find my way.
Visions of tomorrow filled my head;
days without fear and a true love to wed.
~
Ripples between obscured the view.
Sink or swim’s all I could do.
Years thrashing to stay afloat,
my life preserver’s gone and I no boat.
~
From the storm a distant shore arose.
Memories conjured with sand between her toes.
With a youthful splash and mind in the skies,
yesterday’s future floated before my eyes.
~
Was a summer returned, the same and new.
That time’s now gone but dreams came true.
The boy now grown, ending his wait.
If a past meant to be it wouldn’t be late.
~*~
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rhymesalot 