With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
~
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
~
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.
~*~
SCK120218
His name was Gurmumble,
or so it was said.
Gurmumble’s the sound,
comes out of his head.
~
Ask him a question,
anything you choose.
Gurmumble, he’d answer,
looking down at his shoes.
~
Gurmumble was teased,
folks called him a freak.
But he’s actually, quite normal,
he just couldn’t speak.
~
High School was soon starting,
Gurmumble was rightly scared.
The building was enormous,
much bigger than he feared.
~
His first week was horrible,
he’s a target to be teased.
Gurmumble was unfazed,
the bullies left displeased.
~
Come fall his novelty waned,
Gurmumble was now free.
Excelling at his studies,
he had a learning spree.
~
By Spring Gurmumble’s smitten,
but he couldn’t say a word.
So, he wrote his crush a poem,
the prettiest she’d ever heard.
~
He wrote her a poem each day,
awaiting her response.
And when she finally smiled,
it was Gurmumble’s Renaissance.
~
All the girls were swooning;
the boys were just confused.
Gurmumble’s now a star,
no longer feeling abused.
~
His poems now sung as songs,
Gurmumble plays guitar.
His loving girlfriend sings,
I’m sure they’re going far.
~*~
SCK072525
~
I built a playhouse, just for me.
I worked all morning, come and see.
It’s now just finished, just today.
So come on over and we’ll play.
*
My house has windows and a door.
It’ll fit bunches of kids and more.
We’ll plant a garden on the side.
Bush in the back for us to hide.
*
There’s a place for table and chairs.
To color books, build things with gears.
There’s little stairs to go up high.
Peek out the window touch the sky.
*
Cook in the kitchen, clean when done.
The rest of the day we’ll have fun.
Can’t leave crumbs for a pesky mouse.
Then it’ll be the mouse’s playhouse.
*
My house can be a boat with sail.
Or castle in a fairy tale.
A haunted house that is a scare.
Or just a place for friends to share.
*
If you don’t have your own “me space”.
You can make one, just pick a place.
Surround with imagination.
Then fill it up with friends and fun.
*
The End
~
sck091814
Waking to your eyes, your lips I can’t ignore.
We hold each other tightly, our love we can be sure.
Inspired with excitement of making love with you,
our passionate embraces are all I wish to do.
~
Our climax is explosive, a rest then we’ll take.
We’ll whisper, laugh and caress till again love we’ll make.
Bodies now exhausted, our minds still on high,
we’ll float downstairs together to greet the morning sky.
~
Coffee then is shared and we’ll plan our busy day.
Our thoughts are always sunny even when it’s gray.
Hands we’ll hold on our walk, the future now in view.
Bliss we’ll share every day, together; me and you.
~*~
SCK090420
I sat to write a love poem,
but fiction got in the way.
My heart now is still,
alone another day.
~
Maybe eyes will meet,
there’s smiles shining bright.
Perhaps our hands will touch,
and lead us into the night.
~
Our spirits ever closer,
warming our moonlit stroll.
Our lips free to explore,
the pleasures of our soul.
~
Whispers echo softly,
our bodies intertwine.
I am hers completely,
she’s completely mine.
~
The morning sun will rise,
again eyes will meet.
Our hands again will touch,
a new day we will greet.
~
Our love will last a lifetime,
together we’ll always be.
I’ll write a million love poems,
but for now just fictionality.
~*~
SCK022019
Through willow filtered sunshine,
I feel your reflections and you mine.
With introversion my biggest fear,
with hidden face my love I declare.
~
In glistening pools of gentle light,
my heart waves to the mind’s fright.
If lives written our columns divide,
moments unmirrored to cast aside.
~
Hands ever closer the time does drift,
the moon creates our daily shift.
In the dark our eyes meet,
together enlightened tomorrows we’ll greet.
~*~
SCK030219
I started the day the usual way.
My feet hit the floor then out the door.
The sun’s yet high in the new sky.
But on the street I feel the heat.
The sweat begins to drip.
~
I get to work and feel like a jerk.
I forgot to do my do.
So I combed my hair in despair.
Then I booted up and spilled my cup.
The coffee made a big mess.
~
My notes now are gone and I left forlorn.
My haste has caused this waste.
I must slow down or I will drown.
This fast lane is causing me pain.
The phone then starts to ring.
~
It’s another complainer for I the explainer.
I was chilled to the bone by their ruthless tone.
I slammed down the phone but wasn’t alone.
The boss could hear standing so near.
This job, for me, was now done.
~
Hurt was I, I wanted to cry.
I went home to bed and wished I were dead.
I started to dream then woke to a scream.
A poke from my wife saved my life.
My eyes open to start again.
~
A nightmare was had, one very bad.
Its cause being stress is my best guess.
A lesson thought comes before taught.
My sweetie made tea for her and me.
A new dream’s begun and I called out sick.
~*~
SCK071722
I have a best friend, name’s Bunny,
whose age is just the same as me.
Sits on my bed, friends all around,
snuggling close we’re all safe and sound
*
We all giggle, think it’s funny,
when I tickle Bunny’s tummy.
Though sometimes sad, trickling tears,
they’re easily dried with fuzzy ears.
*
I get big, Bunny stays the same,
destined for greatness and world fame.
Written about in poetry,
posed for art and photography.
*
With brush in hand with which to paint,
She’s very patient, no complaint.
Anytime, rainy or sunny,
always there my best friend Bunny.
*
By my side always, journeys far.
My companion; plane, train or car,
sharing adventures in daylight,
sharing our dreams every night.
*
The End
Sck0814
Pontifications’ the place to be.
Grand thinkin’s the life for me.
Imagination’s so far and wide.
Keep AI and just let me decide.
~
Old tech is where I’d rather stay.
I get allergies blindly trusting all day.
I just adore my dual screen view.
PC’s I love you but keep that dark avenue.
~*~
SCK072725
A story’s brewing; it’s felt in my heart.
Yet I’ve to find the end, middle or start.
I think it’s close but it could be far.
The damage done and left a scar.
~
The image is blurry and makes no sense.
I’m hangin’ out with a guy named Pence.
We’re trapped in a cell with fancy drapes.
There are no cigarettes but everyone vapes.
~
Our lofty guard is seven feet tall.
He brings us bread and that is all.
P’s is white and mine is wheat.
But we don’t mind, it’s something to eat.
~
P tells stories of his glorious time.
I write fast and make it all rhyme.
He worked for a king, second in charge.
His duties were light but his paycheck large.
~
The lights go out at ten o’clock.
The guards go home and we all rock.
Music starts jammin’ in a cell nearby.
The place gets smoky and we all get high.
~
Our eyes grow heavy then we all dream.
We awake at sunrise to coffee with cream.
The king too presides in a cell downstairs.
It’s dark and damp but no one cares.
~
The king has a wife he no longer sees.
She crawled off to Russia on her hands and knees.
Though his kids live here, their just down the hall.
They all got snatched while attending a ball.
~
Now tuxedo’s in tatters and gown’s a mess,
the truth was clear, no need to confess.
So maybe this story’s no story at all.
It may be a nightmare, I can’t recall.
~
Though being in jail I wasn’t keen.
But comfort is felt when the future’s seen.
I did get released, no word of the rest.
And all ends well, their silence being best.
~
SCK111019
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.
~*~
SCK100519
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.
~*~
SCK070625
There once was a man from Rhode Island.
Who liked wiggling his toes in the sand.
Though it just a few times a year,
cos he held his toes quite dear.
And freezing them off he couldn’t stand.
~
With miles of beach,
they’re only seasonally in reach.
But walks when not freezing,
they’re still always pleasing.
And you don’t burn the peach.
~
Genes you see have crossed the sea,
his mom as Irish as she can be.
They being that pale as well.
Their summers a living hell.
I guess even good luck’s not free.
~*~
SCK031319
Happy St. Patrick’s Month!
With the summer comes the fall.
With the heat the colors call.
With a breeze the leaves afloat,
it’s the season, a chill we’ll note.
~
Autumn passes to winters white.
With the snow comes a longer night.
With the darkness time will slow.
With our dreams sunshine will glow.
~
Spring is born to bursting hues.
A rebirth’s given for paying dues.
With this life we’re nature drawn.
With a vision this world we’ll fawn.
~
With a blink the green consumes.
Our bodies warm, our thought blooms.
Days awaken to skies of blue.
With the sunset comes dawn anew.
~*~
SCK091720
I’m starting to feel better, not there yet.
Answers I need but questions I get.
Who am I and what’s next?
Right now I’m tired, cranky and perplexed.
~
The day’s new, the sun’s yet to rise.
Doubts abound but no surprise.
Time has dealt an iffy hand.
Do I fold or do I stand?
~
Decks stacked with shuffled years,
never straight, too few pairs.
Confusion reigns and I’m the king.
Does a queen await, will we sing?
~
Love’s been felt and then lost.
Betting hearts has a cost.
There’ll be no diamonds anytime soon.
Spades have dug, my mind’s strewn.
~
Life’s no game and love’s no joke.
The clubs have beaten, my bank’s broke.
But play I must every day.
While aces I wait to come my way.
~*~
SCK112118
Dreams end when not we wake.
Dreams end when failure we take.
Life’s an adventure every day.
Good or bad we’re here to stay.
~
Our paths may wind, climb or fall.
With an open mind we experience all.
Eyes perceive and our hearts feel.
The truth can hurt but always real.
~
Lies deceive and time does tell.
Actions decide our place in hell.
Greatness comes when we stand above.
And dreams live-on when we rise to love.
~*~
SCK080919
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.
~*~
SCK032819
I ain’t never wrote a blues song
Don’ think it sound too good
But my baby did just leave me
And not the way she should
~
Our spring blossomed bright
Our summer was hot
But with those dyin’ leaves
I was forgot
~
I was tossed to the curb
like yesterday’s waste
Now just her memory
I’m forever to taste
~
Love was shared in our hearts
A future’s gone before a start
My baby just left me
And not the way she should
~
I didn’t get call
there was no little fight
I got shot a quick text
on a Tuesday night
~
Her “baggage too great”
to groove with me
Just a couple of words
and that’s all I’d see
~
That’s how she left me
Not the way she should
Cos these blues I’m now feelin’
sure ain’t soundin’ good
~*~
SCK111118
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.
~*~
SCK092620
A story begins when an adventure’s been had.
And for two young lads their end was bad.
They choose to skip school on a bright sunny day.
While deep in the woods the sky turned gray.
~
They veered from the path when a chipmunk ran past.
They bolted and darted but the critters too fast.
Resting beneath a lush canopy of green,
the fast moving clouds they hadn’t seen.
~
The temperature dropped as the sky turned black.
The boys had no clue of how they’d get back.
Rain fell in buckets, the pair soaked to the bone.
The howls and growls meant they weren’t alone.
~
The pair was now hungry, cold, tired and afraid.
Both very sorry for the choices they made.
Each made a promise to do as they should.
And if they survived they’d always be good.
~
Shivering all night, either could sleep.
A nightmare they lived while both counted sheep.
Through teary eyes a new dawn was seen,
and the boys now as happy as they’d ever been.
~
They rose with a burst and sang out in joy.
Then a bear was spotted and she was no toy.
The children screamed and ran off in fear.
But the bear stayed put with berries so near.
~
Each boy choose a different path, now each alone,
if ever reunited both now more grown.
The day warmed up nicely and a search was begun.
But unfortunately by sunset they’d only found one.
~
Days past and reinforcements were called in.
The lake was dragged and patience grew thin.
The boys’ chance of survival was now very slim.
Most of the town folk figured the bear had found him.
~
The police told his parents clothing was found.
And also nearby there was blood on the ground.
The boys’ mom screamed seeing his shirt.
It being torn and bloody and covered with dirt.
~
The search was called off that day at sunset.
The boy that was found was now full of regret.
Another week passed and a service was planned.
A headstone was chosen and shovels were manned.
~
The church was full with mourners from afar.
Then a ranger drove up with a boy in the car.
The boy ran in the church yelling “I’m sorry and glad”.
“I’m glad to be alive but sorry for being bad”.
~
Hugged by his parents who were both quite relieved.
He then told his story that’s hard to be believed.
Punished all summer, he was not allowed out.
The adventure was uncertain, but a story, no doubt.
The End
~*~
SCK060720
Our empty lot’s not empty at all.
There’s a tree that’s big and tall.
It’s a place that kids love to share.
It’s on my street so mom needn’t care.
We spend sunny days in the shade.
There’s lots of dreaming in forts we made.
There’s bunches of dirt to dig deep holes.
Rainy puddles for toy fishing poles.
Our empty lot really has it all,
We hide and seek and sometimes play ball.
It’s the place where adventures begin.
A fence to keep the city out and us in.
We’ve bugs and spiders, squirrels and cats.
There’s soft grass to sit for quiet chats.
We see dogs on leashes and birds in the sky,
Some tweet, sing sweet, bark, run and fly.
There’s rope jumping girls and running boys.
Everyone brings their favorite toys.
Weeds make jungles for our tiny men.
Tiny cars get lost, then are found again.
A place on Sundays for dads to mow.
A place anytime where friendships grow.
When the days fun is done, we all say goodnight.
To our good old friend, under the street light.
SCK102814
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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