choices

Outside the Box

~

Kings rule and Bishops herd

Knightly armor is absurd

Queens both hated and are dear

The Rooks rightly left to take up the rear

*

Conned into servitude

Rewarded with an attitude

To compensate and to blame

A pawn is pushed in the game

*

Each maintains their special place

Unless a better takes their space

And within these lines opinions abound

While ignoring the fact the table is round

~*~

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Duplicity

~

I don’t like writing sad poetry.

It’s not a place I choose to see.

In my world of goodness, all are free,

where faces of children are full of glee.

Hope and happiness is how it should be.

~

Yet pencils ever dull in reality,

so I hone my points, turn’s the key.

Returning I do to the safety of fantasy.

I think that’s best, don’t you agree?

Or is everything escape in poetry?

~*~

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The Track Side of the World

~

Another sun rose on converging tracks

Shedding light on forgotten backs

Graffiti brightens weathered wood and stone

A world rushed past, discarded and alone

~

World’s seem endless, far and wide

Though tracks divide side by side

Yet other sides cannot exist

If they did it would be missed

~

What is missed remains unseen

As does the time and space between

This ride planned doesn’t go everywhere

The straight and narrow’s only halfway there

~

The other half depends on you

All’s seeking direction as we all do

Equals always parallel, horizons curve and bend

All paths end on point, our perch will depend

~*~

sck041216

Old: The New Gold

~*~

Titans rise from mounds of trash.

Soon is seen the survivalist stash.

A garbage economy flush in dirty cash.

The mind’s to waste, throats to slash.

~

Industries shuttered and our cities ablaze.

Fields untilled, nil remains to graze.

Warmth reeks, skies awash in the haze.

All’s left to dream of those good old days.

~*~

sck040316

Poetic Fiction

~

If you’re in no hurry to go

then I’m in no hurry to stay

I’ll pack up my belongings

and be out by the end of the day

.

You can’t ever keep a job

Or even wash the clothes

Our meals served at the drive-thru

That’s where the money goes

.

The few dollars that remain

Is always spent on ink

The few hours that we share

Always your time to think

.

You lock yourself in a room

There you laugh, scream and cry

While I long for the silence

When one of us will die

.

If not for crumpled notes

Our stove would be always cold

Your hot and chilled emotions

Once steamy have gotten old

.

We haven’t kissed in a week

There’s been no love for a year

I’ve now begun to wonder

If love was ever there

.

Now you say you wrote a poem

That all the world should see

It’s a poem of love and devotion

But this one’s just for me

.

If these words of passion

Are as true as you say

Rumpled sheets await

There’s no need to leave today

.

But if they’re not

as all other times before

My future will unfold

beyond your paper door

~*~

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Own Up

~

Children see a world through eyes that are our own

Blinded to other views until their eyes have grown

Knowledge then divides when education is on loan

Cooperation’s needed to set a civil tone

Problems fester when we all moan and groan

Productive solutions are forever unknown

Fearing that someone will cast the first stone

Waiting for others to throw the first bone

Passing on peace or a big steaming cone

Time’s now for grown-ups to show they’ve grown

Let’s save this place we all see as our own

~*~

Sck032716