life

Welcome!

Yellow’s out, green’s underway

Pinks will wait another day

Then purples, orange and brilliant reds

Bursts of blooms thrust from beds

 ~

My world awakens, spring’s finally here

Lilac hues fill the air

Sunrise sparkles on morning dew

Budding trees frame the view

 ~

Clear blue skies, picnics at noon

Summer’s next, just not too soon

 *

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Morning Triku #155 – Drums Rolling

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Taxing Tax Free

The nice thing about
being an author is you
wrote your own paycheck.

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More or Less

If you try sometime
you do find you get what you
tried for but no more.

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Dueling Wits, I Coulda Had a G8

If a sum’s greater
than its parts, then parts lacking
must be a summit.

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Taxation of Tagnation

I was a baby by conception
A child with confusion
A sailor by frustration
And an engineer by education

I’m an appraiser by profession
A husband with devotion
A father of commotion
And a poet by obsession

I’m a man in regression
Not ready for stagnation
So I’m penning a description
On this day of our taxation

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Bird Brains

I woke up early and the sky was gray.
The world’s in turmoil yet I’ve little to say.
But the birds are happy in the mulberry tree.
I can hear them laughing, maybe at me.
~
They see our world from high above,
whether gull, robin or mourning dove.
Their time alive is soaring free,
while looking down on you and me.
~
For if to fly like a bird,
we’d then flock but never herd.
We’d hatch into a nest well made,
free of worry cos no rent’s paid.
~
Just think of the places we could go.
We could fly south before the snow.
We could eat berries, bugs and worms,
pretty much anything that wiggles or squirms.
~
There’d be no alarms or jobs we hate.
We could fly to the stars our very first date.
Then glide back down to a favorite tree.
There we’d rest harmoniously.
~
But we’re not birds and that’s a shame.
Our lives are grounded and mostly tame.
But if to wish on this day that’s gray,
I’d poop on those who stand in the way.
~
So maybe my wish is not about birds.
It’s about people I think are turds,
those who’ve prevented a world of peace,
for you and me and a gaggle of geese.

~*~
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The Write Time

I’ve done lots of things.
But I haven’t done them all.
There’s still much to do.
And my list isn’t small.
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My time’s growing short.
My energy’s sinking fast.
But I’ll never quit,
as long as I can last.
~
Dawn will start my days.
I’ll survive a wingsuit flight.
Languages I’ll learn.
And songs I’d love to write.
~
I’ll sail all the seas.
But that’s gonna take a while.
For now, smaller goals,
today I’ll share some smiles.

~*~
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Easter’s Egging

~*~

The church bell rang and doors flung wide.

We raised our heads and ran outside.

Sitting’s done, now’s time for fun.

Our Easter egg hunt has now begun.

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It’s a perfect day with bright sunshine.

Our baskets ready we waited in line.

Till all were scattered on the count of three,

in every direction kids ran free.

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I ran first to my favorite tree.

I found it’s the favorite of not just me.

So off to the hedge where eggs always found,

none’s left there so to the playground.

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While the others searched I rode the swing.

When they had gone I heard birds sing.

I glanced to the trees and sounds nearby.

Then off jumped I and into the sky.

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I landed in sand on two feet and one hand,

then a tumble or two and up I stand.

I turned to the fence where tall trees grew-

to search for a prize of an egg or two.

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The chirps grew louder with each step I took.

Did they tell me to leave or tell me to look?

I kneeled near bushes and peeked below.

I stuck in my hand as far as would go.

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Feeling around for a tasty surprise,

I pulled out an egg but smaller in size.

Holding tight it felt warm to the touch.

Then I knew why that bird chirped so much.

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Gently I put the egg down on the ground,

took a few steps back not making a sound.

A whistle blew, the hunt was now done.

But silently I waited in the midday sun.

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My basket is broken and clothes dirty and torn.

I knew I’d face my mother’s scorn.

But there’s more to life than clothes un-ripped.

There are some events that can’t be skipped.

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There’s saving the things that you love.

Then a bird swooped down from above

She tapped the shell lightly with her beak.

A tiny head popped out to take a peek.

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The mom  nudged her chick back into the bush.

Her frightful chirping turned to a shush

Then another whistle blew, louder than ever.

To stay any longer just wouldn’t be clever.

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I hurried back, joining up with the rest.

Our search was now over finding the best.

My cousin won second, they had four.

I found just one but I think I won more.

~*~

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http://www.childrens-stories.net/featured-childrens-story/featured-childrens-story.htm

Preservation

The culmination of a once great nation,
founded on principles of liberalization.
Enlightenment trumping degradation,
thoughts unbound, no stagnation.
~
Liberty unleashing new illumination.
Opinions unfounded fuel frustration.
Left and right debate causation.
Answers found no destination.
~
Conformity’s no coadunation.
Thoughtlessness fuels desperation.
Interdependence declares restoration.
Higher ground’s no damnation.
~

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Pointlessnessness

There’s a change in the air,
its felt everywhere.
Will it be warmth or an icy blow?
Outside’s to venture to ever know.
~
The future nears,
with future fears.
The past’s a guide,
or where to hide.
~
Scrambled thoughts shaped in rhyme,
shadows mask the light of time.
Moments killed, perspective’s born,
clearly focused or forever torn.
~
Doors lock, window’s seen,
vistas vary with a lean.
Steps taken never still,
ups and downs, want and will.
~
At a point all paths meet,
minds move not feet.
Hearts feel, hands express,
lips promise; life’s a guess.

~*~
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Spring’s Returning

Thanks to all my many a friend.
My heart and mind’s on the mend.
The road behind bumpy and long,
twists and turns, some wrong.
~
Paths ahead are better viewed;
time’s taught life’s skewed.
All that’s known is there’s usually doubt.
But the ups and downs average out.
~
Like suns and moons we all rise and set.
And with changing seasons we freeze or sweat.
Grounding’s found in what’s always there,
the love of friends with time we share.

~*~
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Springling

Baby’s first spring blooms with joy.
There’s grass for sitting and nature’s their toy.
There are leaves to touch and bugs to see,
flowers to smell and the buzz of a bee.
~
The sun is warm and the sky is blue.
A breeze tickles toes where once a shoe.
Daring they get and start to crawl.
They chase the cat chasing the ball.
~
Mom gets it first and giggles they share.
She tosses the ball high in the air.
Little eyes get rubbed, its naptime soon.
Then there’s lunch on a spring afternoon.

~*~
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Renaissance

I’m going to write a poem so everyone feels good.
I’ll make it bright and cheery as I know I should.
Peculiar times upon us, isolation’s now the norm.
But spring is out in force; soon we’ll all feel warm.
~
Trees are soon to blossom, grass is soon to green.
Flowers will share their colors, bees will tend their queen.
Nature shares her secrets, life does rise again.
Birds are already singing, though we’ve a bigger brain.
~
The future has no guide; we live from day to day.
Optimism is our key to find a better way.
Life will throw some curves and everyone has a pitch.
Some may catch a virus, some will find their niche.
~
Love is in our heart, compassion’s in our soul.
Thoughts fill our heads, they make us feel whole.
The earth will stay in motion; the sun will rise and fall.
Time’s now to show our mettle and share with one and all.

~*~
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Happy Valendumbness Day

Valentine’s Day comes once a year.
It’s the only day of poet fear.
Words flow freely, most every day.
But once a year, I’ve nothing to say.
~
I share my love with dreams and wishes.
And little things, sometimes dishes.
I hold you close and we stick like glue.
Because every day I love you.

~*~
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Foible

Observing a foible in real time,
much longer than a typical rhyme.
The clock’s ticking and time will tell,
will I finish, or, again say Oh well.
~
Time goes through cycles; we all have our own.
We cycle through life; each turn we’ve grown.
Turns’ incomplete, bumps we will feel.
Will I roll to the end or find a new wheel?

~*~
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Spittleiction

Existing in a parallel reality,
stepping in and out unconsciously.
It’s always good when there’s a word,
a word that’s not too, too absurd.
~
Something descriptive for something unknown.
Letters arranged so there are none left alone.
Horizons abound, three-sixty and more.
Infinite options with only one door.
~
In and out realities converge,
yet this moment’s word yet to emerge.
Thoughts divided twixt hither and yon,
Yin and Yang got up and gone.
~
The quest getting long, parallels evade,
as does reality, mind’s left unmade.
My word yet forthcoming, my tongue tip awaits.
Desire’s strong, my hook salivates.

~*~
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the End

If perfection could be found,
is it in or above the ground.
Or in the air or in the sea,
it could be you, not likely me.
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Does it make a sound, or does it smell?
If found, might I say, “Oh well.”
Is it the same for one and all,
is it big or is it small?
~
Question’s many, quests never end.
Clues abound but truth can bend.
Eyes perceive a painter’s stroke,
meaning safe in a canvas cloak.
~
Circles run in boxes made,
glasses worn throwing shade.
Seekers sought surely stun.
Perfection is: never done.

~*~
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Snowflakes

 If no two snowflakes are the same,

When melted do they come back again?

How do all the storm clouds know,

What each other makes for snow?

 **

Though thought all different, ingredients same

Freely floating flakes, cousins of rain

Minuscule crystals suspended in lines

Destiny’s same – the kiss of sunshine

 *

Just another of natures’ follies, like we all

The higher the cloud, the faster the fall

The longer the blizzard, the deeper the strife

The hotter the day, the shorter the life

 .

Do we really care if snowflakes are the same?

Or are we just repeating an old silly game?

A game that can never ever be won –

When all the pieces melt in the sun

~*~

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Fiscal New Year

The mistletoe’s gone for another year.
Alarm bells ringing bring no cheer.
The party’s over, Monday’s arrived,
the holiday’s done, at least I survived.
~
Back to normal I must now go.
Work I must to pay what I owe.
Bills are coming and debts surely grew.
Saving’s diminished; it’s time to make new.
~
Coffee is drunk but the mood is sober.
I’ve interest to pay, maybe done by October.
A resolution I’ve made to end this spree.
But Valentines is coming and gifts there will be.
~
So returns I’ll exchange as sales are waiting,
There are deals galore, no time for debating.
There’s much to do to start this New Year.
Hopefully by spring my plan will be clear.

~*~
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