You’re lovely from afar, sublime when held.
Eyes and lips meet, our passion’s compelled.
Two souls touching and our longings quelled.
Our time shared as one is life propelled.
I love to write of love. I hate to write of hate. Love is truly grand. Hate is never great. ~ Love brings people joy, hearts open to trust. Hate makes people angry; destruction is their lust. ~ Love entails peace. Hate ushers’ war. Why must people hate? Love is the cure.
With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
~
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
~
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.
Are you the me that I can’t see? Or I you, one half of two? If but one, who then are you? If you’re the one, what’s to do? ~ I’m confused, both conned and fused. We share a body, everything’s used. We’ve got hands and feet, both left and right. We have two eyes that see the same light. ~ But our sides divided, never to agree. Perhaps a split, each then free. I think you should go and create a new life. I feel it best you leave, be done with this strife. ~ The battle goes on, both being stuck. Each barely manages without some luck. I did have an end to make all laugh and shout. But then the editor took the good stuff out. ~ The Middle
His name was Gurmumble, or so it was said. Gurmumble’s the sound, comes out of his head. ~ Ask him a question, anything you choose. Gurmumble, he’d answer, looking down at his shoes. ~ Gurmumble was teased, folks called him a freak. But he’s actually, quite normal, he just couldn’t speak. ~ High School was soon starting, Gurmumble was rightly scared. The building was enormous, much bigger than he feared. ~ His first week was horrible, he’s a target to be teased. Gurmumble was unfazed, the bullies left displeased. ~ Come fall his novelty waned, Gurmumble was now free. Excelling at his studies, he had a learning spree. ~ By Spring Gurmumble’s smitten, but he couldn’t say a word. So, he wrote his crush a poem, the prettiest she’d ever heard. ~ He wrote her a poem each day, awaiting her response. And when she finally smiled, it was Gurmumble’s Renaissance. ~ All the girls were swooning; the boys were just confused. Gurmumble’s now a star, no longer feeling abused. ~ His poems now sung as songs, Gurmumble plays guitar. His loving girlfriend sings, I’m sure they’re going far.
Silence heard before the dawn. Birds awaken, silence gone. Sun arisen, cars zoom past. Morning bliss’s fading fast. ~ Breathing in each other’s air, day’s begun, time to share. Faces flash, smiles few, all to find something new. ~ Day will end, night’s to start. Home I go to my treasured heart. First a kiss then hello, dreamy eyes let me know. ~ Sleep awaits, minds at ease, first time for the birds and bees. Dreams to follow, world’s at rest. Another day, ours was best.
Mornings hide in darkness to an untrained eye. Light fills the mind. Who needs a sunlit sky? Wheel’s always turning; they get us here and there. Thought moves us forward, making us aware. ~ Hate infects the soul, love mends a heart. Memories fill the void at times when apart. Words can flow like water, but not all fit to drink. Edits smooth the surface the deeper that we think. ~ Actions set in motion the motives of our will. Results always happen regardless of our skill. Infants of the night, stars will guide the way. The universe is infinite or so our eyes will say. ~ Seeing is absolute, visions much less clear. Plans are two dimensional stumbling on a sphere. Life’s full of surprises, full of good and bad. Time is unpredictable, why would some choose sad. ~ Poets make predictions, half are mostly true. Honesty measures accuracy, what shade of gray are you? Poems can be too lengthy with no end in sight. I’m predicting this is one, so I’ll say goodnight.
Life is for the tasting. Time is not for wasting. Joy is what is found. When tomorrow’s we are bound. ~ Escape the path of wrath. The proof is in the math. The more love that you share, the more you are aware. ~ The more things that you see, the more you’ll feel free. The more things that you feel, the more your life is real. ~ Though hardships get us down, the winners wear the crown. They toast the end of day, tasting dreams there to stay.
On my fourth birthday my grandma gave to me, a precious little tea set that traveled the sea. Painted with flowers in a land faraway. It’s made of porcelain and not yet for play. ~ My initials are there, in gold on the side, I’ll use it when older, but never outside. They’re tucked away safe in the dining hutch. With mom’s good dishes she doesn’t use much. ~ On my fifth birthday my mom said to me, your doll looks thirsty and ready for tea. We ran to the hutch to get my tea set, then a party with mom I’ll never forget ~ My dolly was there, and teddy was too. We had goodies to share, but always too few. We finished our snacks and washed my tea set. Then put it away, it was our best party yet. ~*~ SCK011525
Electrons float in endless flight.
Space’s gray, no day or night.
Infinity lurks out of sight.
.
Elements blend or violently clash.
Random moment’s atoms smash.
Fusion bonds fission’s ash.
.
Core pulls, heat spurred.
Nucleus form, orbits dared.
Love holds a time shared.
When love is easy two become one. When love is easy the hard part’s done. To love and to laugh life becomes fun. When love is easy the joy’s just begun.
The summer heat outshined by rain,
cool breezes now back again.
Sweatshirt’s on, the sky is gray.
Beleaguered blooms will blossom today.
~
Subtle change’s seldom felt,
torrential time’s surprises dealt.
Awakened warm, bodies close.
Rain or shine my daily dose.
~
Weather changes as does time,
minds follow, not a crime.
Days stolen when unprepared,
all’s returned when love is shared.
~
Tomorrow’s to be another day.
Rain or shine, I cannot say.
But if yesterday’s to be a clue,
rain or shine I’ll rise with you.
I started the day the usual way. My feet hit the floor then out the door. The sun’s yet high in the new sky. But on the street I feel the heat. The sweat begins to drip. ~ I get to work and feel like a jerk. I forgot to do my do. So I combed my hair in despair. Then I booted up and spilled my cup. The coffee made a big mess. ~ My notes now are gone and I left forlorn. My haste has caused this waste. I must slow down or I will drown. This fast lane is causing me pain. The phone then starts to ring. ~ It’s another complainer for I the explainer. I was chilled to the bone by their ruthless tone. I slammed down the phone but wasn’t alone. The boss could hear standing so near. This job, for me, was now done. ~ Hurt was I, I wanted to cry. I went home to bed and wished I were dead. I started to dream then woke to a scream. A poke from my wife saved my life. My eyes open to start again. ~ A nightmare was had, one very bad. Its cause being stress is my best guess. A lesson thought comes before taught. My sweetie made tea for her and me. A new dream’s begun and I called out sick.
A poet writes literally in metaphor
Corridors long, many a door
Doors of a poet need no key
Minds always open to poetry
`
Times to lose finding ones right
Days painted dark, nights write bright
A knights shining armor shields sight
Whilst wings of steel soar in the light
`
I know not what I shall think
With heavy load, this pen and ink
Or, should not I think or care at all
Bowing beckoned to this writers call
`
Scribbling, scribing, screaming; I know not why
Tis the finest of line – fantasy and lie
Opinions of truths and relative fact
Explosive emotion, some just an act
`
Though as preposterous as it may appear
A writer’s world there’s literally no fear
We flaunt, flourish and spill our ink
Free from fear to write what we think
`
Thus poetry freedom, yet some never see
And that’s literally preposterous to me
Dew glistens in the crisp of dawn, peering out on an endless lawn. Fresh air and sunshine I am drawn. Soon I’ll be mowing for I am a pawn. ~ The king lives atop a manicured hill, now slumbering peacefully while all is still. Soon he’ll rise and our time he’ll kill. His whims fulfilled against our will. ~ The queen too is soon to awake, maids will arrive with orders to take. Breakfast then served with chefs to make. A picnic will follow down by the lake. ~ Their castle has towers like rooks on a board. Treasures are many, much like a hoard. Guards abound with shield and sword. Musicians are hired to strike every chord. ~ Knights roam freely down endless halls. They await more battles but more likely balls. Their horses pampered in big, tidy stalls, their messes cleaned by old women in shawls. ~ The bishops’ eschewed anymore plans for fun. Soon it may be their rein is done, king’s out-numbered at least eight to one. Tables will turn then a new game’s begun.