Tis the wind that taps my glass.
I close my eyes with hope to pass.
Tis the wind beats on my door.
I cower and cover till no more.
~
Tis the wind that haunts my home.
Forever it lurks where I roam.
Tis the wind that rattles my brain.
Run do I, none to gain.
~
Tis the wind wherever I go.
Till ash am I then it to follow.
Tis this wind shall set me free.
Scattered safely I shall be.
~*~
Sck091815
Loopy –
The more time is spent
In the mirror, the more time
Reflection’s needed
~
Focus –
Poets see the world
Through a fish-eye and themselves
Through two-way mirrors
~
Good Luck –
Broken mirror shards
Though unfortunate leaves much
To reflect upon
~*~
Sck060215
Too Little Rhyme ~
Life is Poetry
Some is good and some is bad
Most we’ll never see
*
Forever’s Never Last ~
Our writing is the
Exercise that forces us
To live fitfully
*
Con-Tent ~
Home’s where our stuff’s stored
A store is where our stuff’s bought
Bought’s where our heart’s sold
~*~
Sck060115
While watching TV like a slouch,
love can be made on the couch.
Or while eating tacos in candlelight,
or an extra kiss when saying goodnight.
~
Bad breath be damned, it’s the sunrise,
I kiss her cheeks till she opens her eyes.
Good morning’s shared and our day’s begun.
We need no plans cos everything’s fun.
~
We’ll relax in PJ’s, our hair a mess;
we’ll sip some coffee until we dress.
Smiles are traded with every glance.
But I smile less when she puts on her pants.
~
Laughter’s abundant with the joy we’ve found.
Our harmony’s felt with every sound.
Yes, love can be made most anywhere.
Just two things needed then blended with care.
~*~
SCK090119
Speaking Volume
.
Writing in peace is
When screams are muffled by the
Voices in your head
~
Cell-less Cell
.
Lonely is having
An imaginary friend
That won’t return calls
~
Chewed not Deterred
.
To write is using
Skeletons in your closet
To appease the wolves
~*~
sck061615
This morning’s poem for you I write,
of lucid visions dreamt in the night.
Images pass of cloudless days,
free of worry, blues or grays.
Our sunsets color an endless shore.
Mornings dance across the kitchen floor.
Hand in hand the future we greet.
Hurdles conquered leapt with four feet.
Two heads balance on shoulders twice broad.
Laughter’s twice loud with joy to afford.
Love’s twice strong with hearts entwined.
My dreams dreamt with you I find.
~*~
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~~~
Ocean breezes howl, the seagulls soar.
Frigid waves crash on the rocky shore.
Yet the morning mist rises above it all.
And foggy eyes see everything’s small.
~*~
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Nights of passion, mornings of bliss,
sparks reignited with another warm kiss.
Sunlight beams through winter skies.
The heat is felt in loving eyes.
~
The day then begins skin to skin.
Temperature’s rising from within.
Whispers welcome our plan for the day.
The outside’s cold so cuddled we’ll stay.
~
Hours pass with laughter and love.
The sun now glows from high above.
With one more kiss we’ll both then rise.
The sunset awaits and perhaps a surprise.
~*~
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Another blank page looks back at me.
Dreams now sleep and the sun’s to see.
My love slumbers a flight away.
When she rises I’ll start my day.
~
I long to see her glowing smile,
I smile back and stare awhile.
A kiss is next and our day’s begun,
our mornings together always fun.
~
We sip our coffee and chat a bit.
Work is looming but little’s writ.
Minds now settled and thought’s clear.
Then the page fills with love we share.
~*~
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I’m too old to paint in tempera, takes too long to dry.
I’m too young to sculpt a headstone, since I won’t soon die.
I’m too old to swim the channel, don’t like being cold and wet.
I’m too young to drown in sorrow with so little to regret.
I’m too old to chase maidens through spring fields anew.
Though now the times just right to share all I have with you.
~
Sck072615
There was once three men,
took a trip on a boat.
The little ship sank.
No one could float.
~
The greedy man drowned,
weighed down by his gold.
The vain man prayed,
for the soul he had sold.
~
The poet swam.
What else could he do.
‘Twas just another day,
awash in blue.
~*~
sck060715
Here’s just another long ass poem,
where pencils wander and minds roam
Wrongly writing a writers spoof,
pretending to act ambivalent and aloof.
Scribbles scribed with thoughts adrift,
begrudging the irony of a weighty gift
A gift when open can amaze and surprise,
when amiss all’s left to despise
Ego and insecurity blend on the page.
The shadows measure, shades gage.
Jumbled words of love, sorrow and joy,
of friendships made or to destroy
Dreams dreamt with eyes shut tight,
while dreams are had in the light.
Time in reflection thoughts bounce then fade.
Intensity’s the source of all that’s made.
Whether hobby, craft, art or obsession,
or a statistically nil reliable profession.
There’s no substitution as far as I can tell,
There’s no on or off switch, no warning bell.
With a drizzle of drudgery and a smatter of haste,
the ink dries anyway, useful or a waste.
When the wining, waling and whimpers wane,
recall and record so something’s to gain.
Just the right words are all that’s required.
Write day and night and be always tired.
And this; not a sonnet or magnificent tome,
but at least it’s another long ass poem.
~*~
sck120615
No earth. No trees.
No trees. No pulp.
No pulp. No paper –
for poets to sculpt.
No earth. No home.
Nowhere to roam.
No time left to moan and groan.
No one wants to die alone.
No one wants this to be.
This to be the world’s last poem.
~*~
Sck062415
Sowing a hideous seed, nourished with gas dug from our past.
Shoot first ask questions last. But hurry they’re going fast.
Guns, gods and greed
Suckled breast corporate laced, plastic faces our world graced.
We share with all what we waste from our piles made of haste.
Winner takes all, just make the call. Man is big the earth small.
Enemies don’t grieve, faith does not deceive.
Much to achieve, just believe.
Guns, gods and greed
The seed grown, seeds of their own, on the wind they’ll be blown.
Or from our hands they’ll be thrown all to cast the final stone.
Spreading death, division and despair – when thrice comes to bear.
The end may be near, a warning shot we’ll never hear.
But never fear.
Guns, gods and greed
Raise our arms to the skies, pop goes the fireflies.
Screams drown out the cries.
Close your eyes daylight dies, truth within, outside lies.
We laugh at others strife. Define who’s to be a wife.
Skewer the peace with our knife.
But soon we’ll all be saved – from life.
Guns, gods and greed
The End
Steve Kittell 2014
Sticky rails, dewy morn
Subway faces look forlorn
Feet beating on the street
Odors rising in the heat
~
September day the city way
Some are sad, some are gay
Rusty bells bang classes start
Painted faces, not quite art
~
Weary eyes survey the new
Innocent hearts there are few
Minds awash in filth and hate
Darkened souls to be their fate
~
Though light shines through on some
Dreaming of times yet to come
When hearts, souls and minds align
Looking beyond billboards for a sign
~
On threadbare tight-rope they do run
Chasing demons just for fun
Where falls expected, ends are not
Where wars are fought on empty lot
~
Fears hidden behind the fists
Fighting for first to be kissed
Truths that smack tender young faces
Their belted thighs can win no races
~
Barrels boxed beneath their capes
Leaving ghostly chalky shapes
Surviving a life that’s never lied
Steely limbs loiter temping outside
~
Oaken doors barred welcome the flesh
Roots of common seeds for minds fresh
Packing more and more withering giants all
Broken floors, chairs too few and small
~
Sown in these asphalt fields un-green
Awaiting sunny nurture seldom seen
To savor and sow or pluck premature
To die in a vase or billow pure
~
Forgotten beauties, shades of greed
Learning can grow our common seed
Our schools this village that I speak
Where betwixt the slabs blossoms peek
~
sck111914
There once was a once upon a time.
Actually there’s many and some do rhyme.
So here it goes another like the rest.
It might not be the worst but won’t be the best.
~
Once upon a time there was;
bees in a garden sharing a buzz.
They flutter high and they flutter low,
they flit where they need to go.
~
They all know each other, each by name.
But humans think they’re all the same.
Unwittingly perhaps, speciesists are we,
but they don’t need us as we need the bee.
~
They grow our food and sweeten our tea,
an absolute necessity, don’t you agree?
So next time you see one, share their buzz.
Cos without them our once will be was.
~*~
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Perfection that’s habitual
Needing more – never full
The pain sharp – the prick dull
Time to numb – time to mull
Eyes cloud, feel the lull
Demons rest in my skull
Safe, blind, brilliant – habitual
Sck100214
~
A page from my book of dreams;
a tale of love, or so it seems.
I wake each day the dream doesn’t end.
Will she ever love me or shall I just pretend?
.
Technicolor visions and her scent in the air
Awaken from this dream I could never dare.
Her touch always welcome on my trembling skin.
When she says she loves me, my life will then begin.
.
Encounters of the flesh, too few to ever last.
Music of her voice now echoes of the past.
Sunlit voids surround were daylight once was bright.
Now only darkness brightens our rendezvouses of night.
~*~
Sck101114
Tho my pages may be numbered,
the funny’s unencumbered.
Cos I yam what I yam and you’re my sweet potato,
couldn’t be none sweeter that I’ll ever know.
~
I got no can of magic greens.
Ain’t got no bag of magic beans.
I sure ain’t got no knock-out punch,
but under this cap I’ve got a hunch.
~
With anchors weighed and pipe aglow,
sunset’s waiting, our past in tow.
A compass points to where forgot,
destination’s chosen, dockets not.
~
A course set to forward the future leads the way.
Tomorrow’s story’s drawn to us, colored by today.
And I yam what I yam and you’re my sweet potato.
So let’s open these hearts and see where we’ll go.
~*~
SCK120319
Nose to nose and cheek to cheek,
hip to hip our passion’s deep.
Eye to eye we always see.
That I love her and she loves me.
~
With every touch warmth is felt.
Whispers shared, our bodies melt.
Lips meet and hands hold tight.
Sunshine ends our restful night.
~
The days begin with spirits high.
Outside we linger beneath blue sky.
We plan our day and time free.
When together we’ll be her and me.
~*~
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Toys are broken, now back to school.
Christmas is over, mom said that’s cool.
She rushed our breakfast packing our lunch.
My brother made faces, I gave him a punch.
~
He threw a banana, it hit mom’s head.
She spilled the milk, her face turned red.
Our dog ran in to save the day.
He licked up the milk and wanted to play.
~
We gave him some scratches and a treat.
Then mom tied shoes too tight on our feet.
We put on our hats, mittens and coats.
Mom packed our bags with books and notes.
~
We walked to the bus stop to meet our friends.
The bus pulled up and our vacation now ends.
The parents all smiled and waved goodbye.
Then home they went for some needed shut-eye.
~*~
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Good day to all and Happy New Year.
The time is now to persevere,
so out with the old and in with the new.
After all that’s all we can do.
~
While some woke hung-over some are well rested.
This day is new and soon we’ll be tested.
We’ve made resolutions, some we’ll forget.
Mistakes we’ve made and some we’ll regret.
~
Let’s rise above and all stand up tall.
Another chance is now given to all.
Its day number one, a new start begins.
Let’s heed our losses and embrace our wins.
~*~
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rhymesalot 