Chivalry’s not dead.
It holds open the door to
more enlightened times.
Chivalry’s not dead.
It holds open the door to
more enlightened times.
A look, touch – A kiss
Hands, bodies – Tactile bliss
Love – Nothing’s amiss
Heart strings stroked feel heat
Neck caressed long and sweet
Rhythm head to feet
How humans learned
They died for knowledge yearned
Trial and error’d
When I’m writing less
I’ve far fewer excuses
not to write better
We’re off to the swap meet today.
Dad says its work, I say its play.
Mom thinks it’s all a bunch of junk.
Who needs an old cast iron skunk?
Every year since I was two.
Seen the toes of many a shoe.
In my wagon with squeaky wheel,
once pulled string from an old fly reel.
Saw a ship of wood, bone and hair.
Dad got nervous, said don’t go there!
Great memories of dad and me.
I wish that mom would come and see.
Up before dawn, first at the gate.
If you’re not first, well than you’re late.
I think that second’s also OK.
Don’t follow, go the other way.
A laugh a push a yawn and sneeze.
New spring pollen made someone wheeze.
We’re squashed on the fence right up front.
Soon we’ll start a new treasure hunt.
The gate opens, I think we won.
I don’t care; I’m here to have fun.
We see faces we’ve seen before.
But the new ones are a lot more.
Soon the sun will rise in the sky.
Down the rows with treasures stacked high.
A day of fun, ready to learn,
Something new at every turn.
We pass the women in her shawl.
Sits alone, sells nothing at all.
Walking past, I’d wave and say hi.
But never did I catch her eye.
But now I’m ten, no chaperon.
Maybe she smiled because I’m grown.
She waved me over to come right in.
Glad to see her never seen grin.
I gazed into lots of old stuff,
even the best looked kind of rough.
She told me stories of each thing,
corner chair and ancient nose ring.
“I never sell my things of old.
They can’t be enjoyed when they’re sold,
loan things to friends once in a while,
like you” she said with a big smile.
“I’ve watched you pass since you were small.
On your dads’ shoulders, eight feet tall.
I’ve seen you smile and watched you grow.
Each time passing you’d say hello.
Walking past, eyes open wide.
You never dared to come inside.
Talking to strangers is unwise.
If I scare you, I apologize.”
She gave me a book that’s quite small,
not too many pages at all.
The book kept dreams lost in your head,
while you were sleeping in your bed.
She opened the book to page three.
Then whispered some secrets to me.
“Dreams are wishes stuck in your head.
They only come out when in bed.
Sleeping soundly, eyes shut tight,
mind wondering all through the night.
When you wake to start a new day,
write down those dreams before you play.
Follow your heart wherever it goes.
Record your trip in lovely prose.
Don’t stop writing until you’re done.
It’s never work when it’s all fun.
First open the book carefully.
Than close your eyes and wait to see,
all your dreams will come back to you.
But it might take a week or two.
Just be patient, don’t ever fret.
All things good you never forget.
I need not tell you anymore,
complete instructions on page four.”
She found a box, it fit just right.
I couldn’t wait to sleep that night.
Tied it up with ribbon and bow.
She gave me hug, told me to go.
It’s been a long winter since then.
Yes I’ve used up many a pen.
I wake each morning at sunrise.
Wipe the night’s sleepys from my eyes
Mom saw me writing early one day.
She asked to see, what could I say?
Together we both read out loud.
We laughed and hugged, she said she’s proud.
Now up after dawn, we’re not late.
Family’s first, treasure can wait.
Another year, there’s much to see,
at the swap meet; mom dad and me.
I hope to see my new old friend,
I’ll share my news with happy end.
I tried hard and my wish came true.
Now mom comes to the swap meet too!
Available at: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/470879
Temptation is the
Instant between desire and
Shadows will follow
or lead, depending on your
choice of direction
Is discovering new things
when down in the dumps
As long as there is
Writers block I’ll have something
To not write about
Altitude is a
Height we soar, attitude is
our desire for more
Let’s all build a castle with some turrets and a moat.
Perhaps on an island reached only in a boat.
Built with our experience, we’re heavily fortified.
Nirvana lies within, unseen from the outside.
Visitors are always welcome. But your journey will be long.
There is no turning back, there is no being wrong.
When the door does open, quickly do step in.
Grab a stone, climb the stairs; it’s where you will begin.
Harmony will fill our time and slumber will fill our needs.
Petty wants and desires found but never feeds.
With the dawn arisen, with cheers we will feast.
The nightmares now are over; we’ve tamed our daily beast.
Years may pass and maybe more, but your day will come.
The steps that you’ve chosen are now greater than their sum.
Rising ever higher, the sky will come into view.
The dream is nearly reached but the rest is up to you.
Letters we’ve sent, letters we don’t,
some we regret and some we won’t.
Some we forget, some we obsess,
some move forward, others regress.
The future will tell what we choose,
what we keep and the things we lose.
We’re in charge but not always sure,
some will quit while others endure.
Love it seems a double edged sword,
piercing the heart where life is stored.
Push too hard and the feelings gone,
though properly placed in we’re drawn.
Staying sharp we all can agree;
brings out the best in you and me.
Sharpen your pencils, grab your pad,
connect the dots and you’ll be glad.
Love is; the poem too long to write.
A canvas painted in light,
blending all the colors white.
The song too high to sing.
Timeless symbology of token ring,
endless joy two will bring.
A tug of war, win less win more.
Always warm beyond the door,
in sickness there’s no better cure.
Too follow and be pursued.
Feeling comfy in the nude.
Subtle glances never misconstrued.
Sheets full – to be continued…
I’m off to see a wizard, the wonderful wizard of odd
It flutters all about waving a feathered rod
But first I’ll take a nice long nap
Wake up then find my thinking cap
I’ll sharpen my quills like a warrior’s blade
And joust with parchment where magic’s made
Then dig into my helmet, always full of goo
Hopefully to yank out something that is new
I never know what or if it may be
Until the ink dries then I’ll get to see
What magic has this wizard left?
Something clever or something deft
Sometimes the words all disappear
Then time has passed, wasted here
Though journeys un-ventured, high or low
Are the adventures you will never know
So follow your wizard and you will find
Those magical wizards are mostly kind
Though often absent, never fret, I’ve a hunch
Some wizards are just out to lunch
Writing an end to darkness
When there’s no bright side
Un-Free Times –
When do poets sell?
When all my time’s spent writing
Or thinking I can’t
Scientific Optimism –
Nature’s law shared in
Physics and psychology
Is that all things bounce
“Ignorance is bliss”
Is a good motto to have
If the only choice
To all the writers never known
To the few from which we’ve grown
From their words the future’s sown
Rearranged to call our own
To all of those that do it now
From palette pure to graven brow
Investing all we dare allow
Divesting that we can’t avow
Time records in poem and prose
Imagined journeys no one knows
From euphoric highs to deadly lows
The tide of emotion forever flows
Looking back at history
Or hypothesizing infinity
Sensations felt we can’t see
Ink bled sets us free
Where to start, that depends
Our time alone shared with friends
Yet all stories must have ends
Well submerged is where life blends
Write the dark to see the light
Time always wins the fight
And when you lay awake tonight
Rest assured our future’s bright
The sea’s the source of life that be.
Life’s the beginning of all’s journey.
Journeys inform of real diversity.
Reality is what we individually see.
Fantasy’s what we make it to be.
Science is what we think may be.
Thought is time with mind set free.
Free is what we’d love to be.
Love unites, we all agree.
Hate divides universally.
Together to agree to disagree,
a reality of peace we then may see.
The expression of time in medium
Through focused jubilant tedium
Seeing our world with open eyes
Recording all without disguise
Art’s a cause for sharing good
A cause to share as we should
Art needs no leave or applause
Art is just, just because
Stagnation rots, life’s to quiz
Be cause, art is
Getting up should be forbid!
It’s too early for a kid.
Hiding not from what I did.
Under blankets – there I hid.
If just to sleep late – I would.
And dream all day – I could.
I want sleep, but wake I should.
Getting up is never good.
Getting up is what I dread.
Hair is tossed up on my head.
Mouth tastes yucky, eyes red.
Cold piggy’s dangling from bed.
Then they’re tickled by my dad.
Got right up but I’m not mad.
Smiles and sunshine bright, I’m glad.
Getting up was not so bad.
What’s now A.I. is All’s Intelligence.
This function A.I. is without consequence.
It’s logic and reason for all to enjoy.
Problems now solved with the ease of a toy.
Every one’s connected and nothing’s overlooked.
The trains run on time and never overbooked.
Errors now are few and never to repeat.
The “WAVE” knows all and when to delete.
This WAVE’s all around and for all to share.
Redundancy is gone leaving space to spare.
The empirical institution the WAVE’s now become.
It’s an indispensable companion, less trusted by some.
It’s used by corporations and governments alike.
Debates now pointless, there’s no need to strike.
Pick your favorite dilemma and the question’s fed.
Answer’s always forthcoming for the followers led.
When asked one day why do wars exist?
Why do greed, intolerance and hunger persist?
Why does hate divide when love multiplies?
Why is the truth of one another’s lies?
The WAVE sputtered, rose and fell.
And with a splash came its truth to tell.
“Man it seems likes to draw lines,
dotting these boarders with deadly land-mines.
Races and religions all have their view.
And with each line drawn they divide by two.
Religion’s divided by do’s and don’ts and do’s don’t agree,
though most can get along individually.
Races will be returned to from where they came.
Then race can no longer be to blame.
Next to consider is the many of mixed pedigree,
they’ll be sent to cities, internationally free.
Thus to return, almost, the world’s indigenous past.
And with tides quickly changing you need to act fast.”
The WAVE roared on to the council’s astonishment.
A vote was had for a very special televised event.
The speaker stepped to the podium and a spreadsheet unfurled,
it’s content of graphs and charts now shared with the world.
And of course as expected the masses erupted.
For each surmised the other’s corrupted.
A new council called for a WAVE review
For all agreed that something’s askew.
This council concluded if manmade there’s a bug.
And thus their proved right when pulling the plug.
The will of the wind with the air that be,
summons the roar from a silent sea.
When this air too shall roar,
a mighty sea bombards a shore
When the wind and sea collude-
all’s consumed all the more.
Can a roaring wind be silenced-
or will it roar for evermore?
A question answered best in rhyme;
The shores are life, the sea is time.
The air is those around us, crying to be free.
And the wind with its will – a roaring poet be.