poem

Jingle Writer

I want to be a jingle writer, write jingles every day.

I want to be a jingle writer, jingles all the way.

I want to be a jingle writer ‘cos there’s bills to pay.

I want to be a jingle writer, not much more too say.

*

I want to be a jingle writer and work from my backyard.

I want to be a jingle writer, poets work too hard.

I want to be a jingle writer, don’t understand avant-garde.

I want to be a jingle writer, no need to be a bard.

*

I want to be a jingle writer and put my tools to use.

I want to be a jingle writer, write short and loose.

I want to be a jingle writer; I’ll be no Dr. Seuss.

I want to be a jingle writer until I’m cut from the noose.

*

The End

Beach Day

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Tomorrow’s to be the best day.

A day of sunshine, swim and play.

Must get to sleep, morning is near.

We’ll wake early, much to prepare.

*

Eat breakfast, find my pail and rake.

Great big castles of sand we’ll make.

Pack cooler with lunch, bring a hat.

Bags for towels and this and that.

~

Morning has come, wide open eyes.

Hoping for those clear blue skies.

It must be early, sky’s still gray.

Maybe I woke on the wrong day.

*

Waited all winter, now’s in reach,

sunny day of fun at the beach.

Went back to bed, nothing to do.

Closed my eyes then the sun shined through.

~

Jumped out of bed, day’s second chance.

Brush my teeth and put on short pants.

Ran downstairs for breakfast and more,

a surprise friend waits at my door.

*

We all got packed into the car.

Hoping the drive won’t be too far.

Wheels turn, were almost there.

Windows open, I smell the sea air.

~

Pull in the lot, our fun begins.

Unpack the car, pull out the bins.

We carry the bags, two for each.

Umbrellas up, blanket on beach.

*

Cooler wheels stuck in the sand.

Dad asked me to lend him a hand.

We’re all set up, time to explore.

There’s much to do at the seashore.

~

We hurry down to take our dips.

First toes then knees, up to hips.

The water’s cold, we jumped back out.

To thick towels we run and shout.

*

My fingers wrinkle, lips turn blue.

The sunshine’s warming me and you.

Sand’s sticking to my wet swimsuit.

Mom gets lunch; sandwich, drink and fruit.

~

Our feast is done, time to play ball.

Huffing and puffing, shared by all.

We blew it up then threw it high.

Caught by the wind, kept by the sky.

*

Grab our shovels, pile the sand.

Moats and towers, kings of this land.

Then waves came in with a crash.

Hours to build, gone in a splash.

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Now we’ll find some big new sea shells.

Some are flat some shaped like bells.

Some you hear the sea in your ear.

Some will have things living in there.

~

Sifting for treasure in the sands.

Time slipping through our small wet hands.

We keep the best in a small sack.

To be explored when we get back.

*

Now let’s try the water again.

First you go then I’ll jump right in.

Dive and swim, watch seaweed float by.

Then the sun sank low in the sky.

~

We all go home, skin pink, eyes red.

Take a cool bath then off to bed.

Going to sleep dreaming of more,

a day at the beach is best – I’ m sure!

*

The End

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None Today

~

There’ll be no daily sonnet today.

Thought has wandered and gone astray.

Nimble quill won’t dance on parchment bare,

seducing lonely on table near.

 

The well is dry from which I must drink.

Chair is empty were journeys to think.

No inky tears shed, blotted or smeared.

No blackened hands bloodied and feared.

 

Letters scrambled all over my mind.

Their chosen order I cannot find.

Brittle wax puddle proves candles death.

The darkness swallows my daylights breath.

 

Blindness shackles a masked and heavy head.

I shrink into my unwanted bed.

Heart and soul content for tomorrow.

When ink, I hope, once more will flow

~*~

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Lessons

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The more costly the watch the freer the time

The louder the song the looser the rhyme

Turn on the light half the world’s dark

Smell the gas we see with a spark

Life in a bubble called atmosphere

Poking holes without a care

Drink deep from fragile stemmed glass

Candlelit dreams with time to pass

To guess and be wrong a zero gain bet

The higher the proof the more wrong we get

To prove the proof a wasted equation

Pens against bombs can never be won

Words in the air unheard over fuss

Numbers on paper not to discuss

Lessons of life shared by all; never stand, never fall

Never swim, never sink, never thirst, never drink

Always bright much unseen, blind to details in-between

Never laugh, never weep, never dive unless it’s deep

Never leap in the melting caps ice

A lesson we can never learn twice

The End

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To Write

towrite

To write of birth is a one-sided view

To write of the past when all is new

To write of life when opinions are plenty

To write of youth that ends at twenty

~

To write of joy is to write of grief

To write of pain is of no relief

To write of boredom is to never be bored

To write of lust like sports is scored

~

To write of love is to love first

To write of hate your mind will burst

To write of fear the fearful not dare

To write without fear is to write without care

~

To write of lies is to confess

To write of death is just a guess

To write of nothing is no life at all

To write is to write is a writer’s call

~*~

 

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Questions

Which came first?

The egg or the hen, children or men,

now or then, the poet or the pen?

What comes last?

The future or the past, rising high or sinking fast,

a little fizzle or mighty blast, a crumpled sketch or final cast?

What is the end?

Goodbye to a cherished friend, a straight path or twist and bend,

a love note always meant to send, a dark void to descend

or love, joy and happiness to share and to lend?

These questions are the same for all but our answers will depend.

The End or Beginning

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Cloudy Ceiling

Dirty windows rattle overhead.

Broken switch won’t turn off dread.

A flower cart sleeps with gray canopy.

Blue hides beyond infinity.

`

Tiny world, walls surround.

Door jambs swell, I am bound.

The smaller my cube the more I pick.

Yet droplets spill without a lick.

`

Hunger consumes wasted words.

Cupboards cluttered with thirsty birds.

Procrastination wears heavy on my floor.

Stained and crumpled dreams clutter more.

`

Showers will come. The well will fill.

Current flows once still.

Walls disappear. Windows clear.

The beyond invites, if I dare.

`

The End

`

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Waking Up

~

Waking up’s the best time of day.

What will I wear, what will I play?

It’s time to think of things to do.

First find my pants and missing shoe.

~

Wipe from my eyes the sleeps last trace.

I’ll brush my teeth, wash hands and face.

My bed’s made, teddy’s on pillow,

But one last hug before I go.

~

To the kitchen, mom will be there,

Making breakfast for us to share.

We chat about things to be done,

Some of it work, some of it fun.

~

Finish dressing put dreams away.

It’s time to start a brand new day.

That’s why waking up is the best.

But can’t do that without your rest.

~

The End

*

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Sharing

~

People that yell have nothing to say.

People who yawn sleep all day.

People who sniff also smell.

Preachers of lies go to hell.

`

Thieves take for their greed.

The meek give when in need.

The globe’s split by distant light.

Half is day. Half is night.

`

Half is X. Half is Y.

Thunder booms in forever sky.

Drowning reason with buoyant screams.

Pushed and pulled to all extremes.

`

Hiding behind a glass veneer.

The mirror see’s we all don’t share.

But share we must our only place.

For life’s reflection, not a race.

`

The End

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My Pencil

My pencil in hand – mind set free
Erasing the chains binding me
Safe in my world of poetry
A better friend there cannot be

No rhyme or reason there’s to flee
No shackles of society
No meter of conformity
No question of sincerity

No judge, jury or guilty plea
No door can stop my slender key
I’ll wander through infinity
Another side of life’s journey

Draw lines that know no boundary
Return with words for all to see
Arrange them well – create beauty
Then thank my little piece of tree

~

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My Friend and Me

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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

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The Lottery

I’ll buy the ocean, tallest tree.

When I win the lottery.

$

A never-ending shopping spree.

When I win the lottery.

*

The good times we’ll have, you and me.

When I win the lottery.

$

I’ll share it all, just wait and see.

When I win the lottery.

*

 Can you spare a buck, it’s not free.

Then I’ll win the lottery.

$

The End

*

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New Day

When life adds lemons to salty tears,

One can blend with Tequila, slug a few beers.

These ades to aid will quench our cares,

Peeling the rind of all our fears.

*

But mornings return, suns will rise,

Burning fog in heads and eyes.

A cure’s not a cure if demise.

Perhaps today lemonade’s wise.

*

The End

~

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