Trying

The harder I try, the harder it seems,

I’ve wasted much, reams and reams.

I’ve tried writing of infinity but couldn’t find an end.

Tried to write of society though I couldn’t offend.

~

I tried to write of death, can’t write in the dark.

Tried writing of youth but lost the spark.

Scribbled of sorrow, tears cleansed the sheets.

Dribbled of conquest but I had no feats.

~

I tried to write of time, that didn’t last.

Wrote of the future, thought of the past.

I’ve written coldly until my lips turned blue.

So I wrote of warmth and penned volumes for you.

~

My heart’s now thawed, boiling blood rises to brain.

Bleeding emotion doesn’t have to cause pain.

A trying life’s journey is what’s inked of late.

Perhaps it is now I’m writing of fate.

 

*

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My Pencil

My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be

No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity

No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey

Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree

~

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Outside the Safe

Sticks-a-dozen by chance collide

Metaphorically making a box to hide

Abstracted distractions of imaginary space

Where the views transparently clear

Through these walls we shape around us

To shelter us from our fear

~

Though this box a cell when not a vault

And the combinations given by default

When sticks and bars are the same

The outside’s kept out and inside kept in

And nothing’s ever lost or found

When there’s nothing ever within

~*~

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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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Penned Pretend

I’ve written more words than I’ve said

Just to make space in my head

I write of my demons, so they’ll go

Making room for more – I’d rather not know

~

Perhaps this is a writers curse

A play never-ending we can’t rehearse

The stage set high, the pit is deep

The curtain falls yet I can’t sleep

~

A costumed impostor, naked, pen in hand

Conducting blindly a leaderless band

Actors, black and blue all look the same

Though some quite vicious, most are tame

~

On each sheet lay a one-act play

Performing soliloquy day after day

Awaiting intermission – after applause

Make believes effect and cause

~*~

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Perceptualist

Purveyors of perception

Is what a poet be

Sifting through the shards of life

That most choose not to see

.

Seekers of answers

No one knows for sure

The good days are great

The bad days more

.

Our love is dissected

Cutting up the muse

In search of a beating heart

Something we can use

.

Dives dismally deep

Doling out despair

Climbs quite climatic

Seemingly without a care

.

Our minds are a toy

For building, breaking and play

Scattered pieces everywhere

What will we find today?

~*~

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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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YEAH!

yeah

Congratulations one and all

No task too big or job too small

Made a movie, made a play

Now’s time for graduation day

 *

Three years past, mastered the rage

All the world’s now your stage

Share your craft, design, create

Dues were paid – go be great!

~*~

To Hannah & the NYU class of 2015

*

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Time for Time-Out

Time for time-out, it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

`

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

`

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

`

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

`

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

`

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that’s not all.

`

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

`

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

`

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

`

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

`

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

`

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

`

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

`

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

`

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

`

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

 

The End

 

Published at Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

Energy

We laugh and cry, we bleed and lie

We share, we care, we dare to fear

Hugs and kisses, winks and smiles

All hand in hand over infinite miles

~

With ears to hear and eyes to see

 Blending thoughts of you and me

This place unique, where all are free

 ~

A place like home wherever we roam

Our roaming’s recorded in cyber tome

Then blended together to build something grand

All made from our minds and energized sand

 *

 

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