poetry

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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Down for the Count

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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Blast

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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Cut

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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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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Moments Monumental

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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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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Checking Out

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 Sands of Time Between My Toes

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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The Sands of Time Between My Toes

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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No Brainers

One shouldn’t settle so not to wait.
Fair’s not fair and good’s not great.
Red flags fly so not too late.
Half a heart can’t seal a fate.
~
Days pass with us or without.
Some have promise, some doubt.
Some will whisper some will shout.
Some things felt, some thought about.
~
We all have faults, some have two.
Some have more, some quite a few.
So know your own, that’ll do.
Then you know what’s best for you.
~
Strokes broad and canvas wide,
pros and cons help decide.
Time tells us we cannot hide.
Our choices made; behind or beside.

~*~
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Writing on Empty

I worry about writing, I worry when not.
I worry too much, I worry a lot.
The past I feel and the future I see.
Factor’s deduced and nothing’s free.
~
Can it be afforded, an unknowable time?
Can life be spent on rhythm and rhyme?
Can I feel without getting hurt?
Can I grow without eating dirt?
~
Chained to my pen, the outside looms.
In dusty volumes this life entombs.
Can pages torn be chapters shared?
If a binding’s broke should fate be dared?
~
Sheets to the wind, covers tossed.
My quill floats off, I am lost.
Paces excel and alter trips forgot.
Will the sunshine burn, I worry a lot.

~*~
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Ands

She was placed on a pedestal.
And I was kicked I the face.
She jumped off.
I fell from grace.
~
I let my guard down.
And I exposed my heart.
And in the blink of her eye,
I was missing a part.
~
I opened hundreds of doors.
And heard one slammed.
Our time swept smoothly.
And now it’s jammed.
~
To express my love,
I took a chance.
I gave her my song.
And she couldn’t dance.

~*~
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Dashed

Past defeats never forgot.
And new ones start, wanted or not.
The future’s now a little shorter.
The time’s past to reorder.
~
On a line I stand for another race.
Hurdles tripped to slow the pace.
Miles obscure seconds behind.
Marathons won when a sprint’s to find.
~
Running on empty, the finish’s near.
The sun setting, lost again I fear.
Love’s judged, balanced with tension.
Perhaps I’ll sit for honorable mention.

~*~
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