Their times chosen few
Classics live on forever
All novelties fade
~*~
sck112514
Their times chosen few
Classics live on forever
All novelties fade
~*~
sck112514
Think before striking
Wounds go deep, words go deeper
A tongue’s double edged
*
sck112514
Something new to do
It’s a “YOUR NAME HERE” haiku
This line’s for you too
~*~
sck112514
Circles can ellipse
Squares are diamonds on a tilt
The view’s up to you
~*~
sck112514
Soon it’s fall, but first back to school, days getting shorter, nights get cool. Then the winter and with it snow, wrapping the world in its glow.
We’ll build forts, make balls to throw. So many things to do in the snow, sledding and skiing, rolling in white. Hoping for more snow every night. Morning’s good news, stay home from class. Fun things to do with time to pass, make a snowman with rocks for eyes, that see’s all in cold winter skies.
We’ll stay in and play or just talk. Then shovel a long path to walk, to the street though nowhere to go. Everything’s closed because of the snow. Crusty piles; high, dirty and gray, wetter and smaller each new day. Snowman’s withered, springs on the way, time to make up for our snow day. Waking one morning, snow’s no more, instead there’s flowers by… |
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Reflections at night
Are disproportionately
Darker than the day
~*~
sck112314
Two lambs enter mass
The priest yells – “No sheep allowed”
The flock disappears
~
sck112314
A pebble that’s skipped
Is forever forgotten
Boulders turned, never
sck112314
Drawing lines.
Building shrines.
Slicing time.
Hiding grime.
Poets paint.
Painters rhyme.
Good guys kill,
for the crime.
Bad guys kill,
for the lust.
Bankers earn,
for the trust.
Numbers lie.
Trust we must.
Letters shade.
Muddles made.
Shades of gray.
Sunless day.
Stormy winds.
Erase our way.
Time will dawn.
New life drawn.
Drawing lines.
~*~
sck112214
I think.
I write.
I think I write.
I write, I think.
I think I write to think.
~*~
Sck111814
Conformity bleeds souls
Souls bleed the heart
The heart bleeds blood
Blood bleeds life
Life bleeds insanity
Insanity bleeds ink
Ink bleeds poetry
Poetry bleeds puddles
Puddles don’t conform
*
Sck111814
Great writes few.
Good writes great.
Bad write’s good.
No writes bad.
*
No writes wrong.
Write to know.
Time to write.
Right the time.
*
Time is left.
Make good time.
Write to make.
Write to write.
~*~
Sck101714
Rewrite111814
To have audience
For this is thus that we must
Venture and truck on
~*~
sck111714
Purple skies yell good night to their dozing sun.
Fire lights the shadows, the nights day’s just begun.
Shades pulled on lives within without the stars to guide.
A ball is had in the deep, dancing to rhythms of tide.
Partners forever splash to wash away the light
Din of life slowly fades to the deafening of night.
Eyes shutter, Door hinges squeak there last, and new hands draw air.
Breathing in the day’s last taste, dark of night’s only fair.
While others rest, days run on to beat the clock.
Gates alive awake the walks to open doors that need no lock.
Welcoming all workers be, busily buzzing to make life sweet.
Nights or days at Hannah Belles employ a tasty treat.
Chimes ring out in the square, alerting all to what’s behind.
Reminding all of what’s ahead and afoot and to jog the mind.
Bottomless pools dot the streets, journeys take forever.
There’s joyous voices all around and angry silence never.
Another day in Hannahville, they feed the smiles everywhere.
This factory called Hannah Belle glows without a care.
Whether color gloss or moustache size, styles change, lips stay the same.
Visitors wait in a thin line to leave robust and always glad they came.
First chapter from Hannah Belles Silence (Charlie passes the candy torch)
Coming soon to virtual bookstore near you.
sck111414
Debates with oneself are too one-sided.
They’re always lost, can’t ever be won
and never untied.
If one’s to win what cannot be won than
one should not bait oneself.
sck111414
Intrepid petunia, November gray
A ray of life on an autumn day
Stands lonely in planter on a porch
The seasons of gold’s solemn torch
On canvas of gray grows shadow of white
Sunbeams focus ‘til called by night
Her lasting beauty the sun is drawn
Through lonely nights to kiss at dawn
Yet soon to be tucked in bed of snow
A winter slumber awaiting springs glow
*
Sck111514
Engines of plight will grind to a stop
When bloated guts belly flop
Diving high in their oils last drop
~
Autos will stall – jets will fall
Ships adrift with no ports of call
Life consumed by engines sprawl
~
We’ll burn our peat and our coal
Scavenge twigs when no logs roll
Burn our atoms and homes of ole
~
Hope burns rockets for us to roam
In glittered shells, blazing chrome
Turning pages to ash that was our tome
~
Oceans slick with humans last trace.
Now directionless vessels adrift in space
Motionless, still hurrying – to keep the pace
~
Escaping history that was our own
Journey unneeded to a vast unknown
Civilizations die when greed is grown
*
Sck102214
There was a blue poet from town.
His nose so red he thought a clown.
He juggled bottles to think,
Drowned in his ink.
His big shoes weighed him down.
sck111214
Poetry is words that paint pictures.
`
Love and life are poets’ canvases.
`
Our forever’s end when never begins.
`
Two loving hearts will beat forever.
`
Heart beats are music for souls.
`
Art is poetry of music’s brush.
*
Sck102414
Bad Cells
Sat on a button
Put the devil on speaker
The world heard my sins
*
Forward
A place never left
Is a place you’ve never been
No past, no future
*
Flip
Life is bipolar
Freezing on top and bottom
Hot in the middle
~
Sck110814
Poet: Rises to all occasions then writes them down
Poetic begging: Being down on all meta-fours
Poetic license: No rules or tests, mirror-less, wheel-less and driving blind
*
sck110414
Ghosts of the future, death matures infants’ eyes
Growing ever larger to burst in the sky
Distant stars to twinkle bright and high
Bloody torrents drowning souls, gurgles smother cries
Silence will be deafening when the music dies
~
Sck110314