~
Can a poet be a poet with nothing to say?
Can my words be precise when all is gray?
Does the sun ever shine on a gloomy day?
Why don’t lips and hands work the same way?
For to speak what I feel I would dearly pay.
If only to say “I love you” each and every day.
~*~
sck060916
~
Norms forever change,
reality is the same.
No one is to blame.
~*~
sck060916
~
Coming to grips with
and embracing aren’t the same
But better than not
~*~
Sck060716
~
In reverse forward is time.
Today’s feelings, tomorrows rhyme.
Yesterday’s drive neutralized.
Days hide in nights disguised.
To see at last a final verse.
When parked forever in rolling hearse.
~*~
sck060516
~
Words dissolve in heart’s resolve,
minds paint shades of gray.
Souls see blue, yellow shines through,
greens brighten our day.
~
The sun sets the sky ablaze,
stars permit our view.
Into space we achingly gaze,
seeking salve for a world with no clue.
~*~
Sck060416
~
Language is sound fills all around with highs and lows of note.
The art of the word’s felt not heard, not seen, thought or wrote.
Birds speak in song words we get wrong, the music we think our own.
Thunder claps, lights bolts traps and the silence forever unknown.
~*~
sck060316
sck060316
~
A mean and petty old boss I once had,
made threats to all when he was mad.
“My pen’s mightier than the sword!” he’d say
“Bad recommendations will affect your pay.”
He was always looking to pick a fight.
So with my pen I poked him – to find he’s right.
~*~
sck053116
~
Nature needs man like a hole needs a head.
Man needs nature as butter needs bread.
Needs fulfill, it’s how we’re fed.
Yet when needs consume nature’s dead.
~*~
sck053016
~
Steven rhymes with Heaven and Kittell rhymes with hell.
Now as a poet who likes to rhyme I know not where I’ll go in time.
But if a choice there is to be – I’ll surely go where the quill floats free.
~*~
sck052916
*
I wait each year for the dandelion bloom
I sit by the window of my cold little room
Awaiting the blossom of sunny yellow delight
Escaping again from this long winter’s night
I ache for the sunshine and fluffy tops to blow
Grown up from the sidewalk where people don’t go
~*~
sck052716
~
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?
~*~
Sck052516
~
My writing’s waning
Want’s waxing, this writer’s block
I’m finding taxing
~*~
Sck052016
~
If Jesus went to
a gun show would he be in
a heavenly state?
~*~
sck051816
~
More’s not always best
Less leaves longings lingering
Enough is enough
~*~
sck050616
~
Any two boards can
be nailed together, yet not
all will be a cross
~*~
sck050416
~
Emerald lagoons
welcome the day. Stars outshined
as ocean to bay.
~*~
sck050316
~
Two lines needed to
Add or multiply, yet one
Subtracts and divides
~*~
sck050216
~
Forever to dream
violets in bloom, purple’s
now red with the blues
~*~
sck042216
~
The millionaire poets, no dollars just sense
Their estates so large too big for a fence
With endless pens to harness the needs
Gardens abound grown from their seeds
~
Though time not made with gold on wrist
Dawn awakes when morning kissed
Wealth’s not held it’s how you see
When life’s embrace forever free
~*~
sck042116
~
Nights prone and days tall
Ying and Yang more than a ball
Life’s curves say it all
~*~
sck042116
~
I work doggedly
But poetry’s doggerel
Doggone these dog days
~*~
sck041716
~
Columns and rows stack the game
Times of yore much the same
Days of peace cloaked in junk mail
Nights at rest dreamt a fairy tale
The dark surrounds all who sleep
What can hold may also keep
Pawns a king can never make
Yet pawn a king can always take
Kings and queens rise and fall
While castle walls forever tall
~*~
Sck041716
rhymesalot 