~
Glasses half full of
polluted water are no
better than empty
~*~
sck041917
~
Glasses half full of
polluted water are no
better than empty
~*~
sck041917
~
That Stinks
If the world were my
oyster, I’d be shucked, since I
don’t enjoy seafood.
~
Shaping Reality
Pearls true round seldom found,
they are but nature’s waste.
More are found truer round,
when man made of cheaper paste.
~
Appraising Tomorrow
Diamond’s when new sell quite a few.
Yet these gems of old are barely sold.
~*~
sck092216
When I was small, my friend was tall.
Through my window it watched me grow.
Friends always near though winters bare.
Waiting for spring, leaves green, birds sing.
~
Sit in the shade, memories made.
Arms are growing, leaves are glowing.
Branches so high – climb to the sky.
Or ride the swing, picnic to bring.
~
Then soon its fall, colors for all.
Float to the ground – pile in a mound.
Jump in and play, brisk autumn day.
Another year past all sprouting fast.
~
Leaves shake, wind blows, hot days, cold snows.
We’ve stood together in all-weather.
But when I’m all grown, out on my own.
I’ll miss my tree and it’ll miss me.
~
The End
sck082514
~
Oh tiny ant where do you go?
You dash and flitter to and fro
Treading over floor of wood
In search of something surely good?
.
Oh lowly ant what do you seek?
With every rise another peak
With every gap another turn
Oh tiny ant what do you yearn?
.
Burdens weigh upon your back
Up and down your random track
Your only goal to share with all
Yet chances great you will fall
.
Oh lowly ant where did you go?
There are things I need to know
In a blink you disappear
Homeward bound? Or not I fear
.
Oh tiny ant no more to see
Oh lowly ant you are me
~*~
sck082116
~
When all bridges burnt
even the best of swimmers
can drown in regret.
~*~
sck081216
~
This revolution
will be televised, reruns
greatly revolting.
~*~
sck072516
~
If extended clips
applied to brains there’d be no
need for the bullets
~*~
sck070916
~
Make America
great again! Return it to
the slaughtered natives
~*~
sck071616
~
The fairness in life
is the randomness of life
that is shared by all
~*~
sck070816
~
Near two centuries standing tall
Perched upon its foundation wall
Stone and rock stacked one at a time
Cracks are filled with mortar and lime
.
Plantings and pruning’s since time’s begun
Nature’s matured, the house and it one
Repairs are always but never to date
A new one’s found just of late
.
It seems there’s a door that escaped my gaze
It’s probably been there for days and days
It welcomed a visitor though I not aware
There’s plenty of room but I’d rather not share
.
A bed was found of rags and fleece
A trap was set for catch and release
The morning came and the trap’s shut tight
Catching the culprit that roams in the night
.
The walk was had on path well worn
Evicting another, my heart is torn
Bound in plastic to hide from the eye
Soon they’ll welcome the bright blue sky
.
With a careful flick and gentle tap
Out popped an alien from its trap
Oh what to do, Oh what to do
The mouse I caught is a shrew
.
Research was done, panic’s at rest
Contemplations had of what will be best
Plans conceived to search for the door
Or wait for winter when the problem’s no more
~*~
Sck070616
~
Contented with love,
content with life, tables turn
then battered with strife
~*~
sck070516
~
Pending ending
Time’s descending
But look up must I
The past leaves us grounded
Yet the future’s in the sky
*
Pending ending
Life’s transcending
But look forward must I
Despair is all around
But good does never die
*
Pending ending
Love’s remembering
To never forget must I
Endings pending ever change
And alas must I
~*~
Sck070216
~
Time’s gone before we see
the entirety of periphery.
Viewing life from afar
speeding past in our car.
.
Vistas ever change
in the given range.
Moving pictures pass
rainbows through the glass.
.
Spreading very thin
the less is seen within.
Edges all around
holding sight and sound.
.
Reflections never last
the future comes to fast.
Viewing life from afar
all’s left is the scar.
~*~
Sck062716
~
A chorus flesh without minds to teach.
Organs play within arm’s reach.
Letters penned digit free.
Spirit adds and souls see.
Eyes can taste what ears can’t smell.
Lips walk back where legs won’t dwell.
Hands don’t beat the hearts grip.
Lungs do fill with one last sip.
Blood’s bled for freedom’s speech.
Our number’s noted to later preach.
~*~
sck062216
~
Stars blinking sky high
Constellations dancing by
Airport views of I
~*~
sck062016
~
Kings rule and Bishops herd
Knightly armor is absurd
Queens both hated and are dear
The Rooks rightly left to take up the rear
*
Conned into servitude
Rewarded with an attitude
To compensate and to blame
A pawn is pushed in the game
*
Each maintains their special place
Unless a better takes their space
And within these lines opinions abound
While ignoring the fact the table is round
~*~
sck061416
~
My shadow only follows half the day,
when I turn to smile it looks the other way.
It forever lurks, even in the night;
they are after all merely shades of light.
~
As are the demons that haunt the mind,
there depths unseen they seek to find.
Casting shadows to lead my way,
an image in the dark, half the day.
~*~
sck061116
~
All have stories, few ever tell,
journeys ventured and desires to quell.
Desires quenched and misgivings had,
good tales abound, few ever bad.
~
Temperatures rise and emotions swell,
tightly bound the poet does dwell.
Here words cascade to drown the sad,
ink flows freely I think I’m glad.
~
For if to spiral back into my hollow shell,
where the sea’s only heard is my living hell.
There verses echo of another passing fad,
when only time notes the page we add.
~*~
sck061016
~
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
~
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