choices

Don’t Know

I need a formula to know when best to write.
I write randomly most every day and night.
Rarely is it very good but sometimes it’s all right.

~

In search of inspiration everywhere I go.
Some hit in an instant, some never show.
Moods always vary as the poems reflect.
The good and bad, I think are quite easy to detect.

~

Sometime when feeling good I’ve nothing good to write.
That ticks me off assuring a terrible night.
But when feeling down writing helps me feel all right.

~

Yet the time is spent either way,
though always writing of yesterday.
Where’s the balance, it’s there I’ll go.
So if anybody knows, please let me know.

~*~
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Twists and Turns

Reviewing the past

observing the present

Thinking of how

the time is bent

~

Planning moments

as decades pass

From endless days

to rushing for gas

~

Fill the tank

rent some time

Seconds count

for years of crime

~

Millennia passed

before the wheel

Now our dreams

are virtually real

~

Tomorrows will come

as yesterday’s fade

Compressing our futures

with the bends we’ve made

~*~

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Pens versus Cages

I woke up dreading my pen today

Everything’s good, I’ve nothing to say

The sky is blue, the grass is green

Prettiest day I’ve ever seen

*

I’m sure if I try I could bum myself out

I could yell and scream and swear and shout

I could read the news, that’ll do it, no doubt

I could stare at the floor and see it needs grout

*

I could stare in the mirror and discover new spots

The closer you look you’ll find lots and lots

Or ignore everything just a little bit longer

Postponing these pressures until I’m stronger

~*~

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Day Dreaming Reality

.

Portraits of time and of self

Antiquities dusty upon the shelf

Volumes of reference to explore

Nature’s framed beyond glazed door

.

A pretender perched many a year

Penning in silence for all to hear

Words, numbers and colors all float by

Till looming shadows shade a sunny sky

.

This past’s the shadow to reflect

Reminders of the pasts neglect

Selling the former to fund tomorrow

When even good times odds say sorrow

.

Betting the future to play today

Retirement in the opposite way

It’s yesterday’s dream to say “I am!”

Today a poet, tomorrow a scam

.

Or just a dreamer dreaming a dream

Building castles by the ream

A hopeful realm to rest an ancient head

Dreaming forever in my feathered bed

~*~

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Can Do?

Can we love something never seen

Can we see a place we’ve never been

Can we hear a voice never spoken

Can we feel a heart never broken

 ~

Do we breathe just to survive

Do we work for what we strive

Do we climb to take the dive

Do we love to be alive

 ~

Can we answer when unaware

Do we question what we share

Can we do all we plan

Do we do all we can

???

 ~*~

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All’s Just

A rose is just a rose

When methodically it’s chose

Yet a rose is so much more

When a surprise left at your door

 *

A kiss is just a kiss

When given hit or miss

Though a kiss is so much more

When from who you adore

 *

A life is just a life

When hiding from others strife

But life is so much more

When one finds what life is for

 *

And death is just death

When we take a final breath

Or a life forever more

When we’ve left an open door

 ~*~

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Steal this Poem

G’head punk, make my day

Steal this poem as you may

I’ll write another, take that one too

Then I’ll pen prose, making fun of you

 *

Take from me, indulge your greed

Plagiarism, the affirmation we need

Don’t you worry I’ll rhyme some more

I’ve infinite topics to explore

*

But you, my friend, only do one thing

You’re a one note wonder, that can’t even sing

While creators create, both good and bad

A thief’s life will always and only be sad

~*~

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The Mothers Way

Happy Mothers day

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

Cradles all her precious kin

Judges not, where life begins

Cherished breast nurture space

Moving forward her many race

 .

One side day the other night

One side dark the other light

Sheds cool and rain, heat and snow

Her orbits share all else to know

 .

Oceans deep, skies bright

Growing all, her suns might

She frees to wander, endless whys

Her moons revolve before her eyes

 .

Dancing tides flowing minds

Infinite movement never binds

In this universe family all are we

This milky galaxy our mother be

 *

The End

 ~

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Can I Haz Tomorrow?

My cat had a vision the other day

Of a future, not long away

She stood on the moon

Gazed into the gloom

~

Where once a planet spun

Fresh air, naps and scratches, oh what fun

Food abounds for every taste

Till wolves overcame and all was a waste

~

Wars were fought over piles of trash

And our once cozy home now a ball of ash

~

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Love Loving You

I don’t like bugs and I don’t like snakes.
I despise non-chocolate birthday cakes.
I don’t like deserts nor frozen lakes.
I enjoy the fall, hate the rakes.

~

I prefer the old to the new.
I don’t like laces in my shoe.
I don’t like doing what I don’t love to.
But surely I do love loving you.

~*~

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Mind Over Maturity

Whilst all the young may have youth,
not all the youthful young.
Youth’s not measured by our age,
or the passions we engage.

~

It’s not about time at all,
or being big or being small.
It’s not a question of maturity,
rock star travel or annuity.

~

It’s the way we feel and perceive,
of life’s fascinations to conceive,
hopes, dreams and wishes to believe,
it’s how we love and how we grieve.

~

A youthful heart’s quick to mend,
quick to receive, give and lend.
Wonders abound in youthful eyes,
birds soar higher in bluer skies.

`

Yet youth is stolen by the fiendish lie,
That getting older is preparing to die.

`

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Forging Change

 

Around the block a time too many

Quick to bend for the penny

Though change not found on the ground

While chasing a tail all around

 *

Change not found on the street

When heads in clouds and eyes on feet

For change is forged from within

To not share warmth one can’t begin

 *

With hammer heavy and anvil steady

Strike when hot and at the ready

Feel the burn and see the glow

Change’s forming with every blow

 *

Value anew will quench the way

Lungs full bellow every day

Brains to flame, time is ore

Same for all, some change more

 *

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Pastel Poetry Please

The pallete overflows

Colors no-one knows

A spectrum of hues

Whatever I choose

But the grays get in the way

 ~

Wheels of color roll on the ground

Colors don’t matter if wheels ain’t round

Drawing time from sketchy books

Gradient defines good, shady or crooks

And the grays all have a say

~

Canvas pure, time no-more

Palletes bare, nothing to share

Thinking of more, brushes galore

Morning’s bright till dark of night

Yet the grays still paint my day

 ~

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