poetry

Be the Wind

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.

*

Sck010315

Unwritten Sonnet

Thoughts of love, humming notes to an unknown song,

I’ve tried to write it down but the words all came out wrong.

It seems when I think of you all other thoughts go astray.

Emotions and desires jumbled, I can find no words to say.

.

I’ve tried a million times and I’ll try again today,

though time spent together always the better way.

Now pen’s in hand, mindful bliss my heart begins to race,

visions of my fantasy; beauty, elegance and grace.

.

Reminiscent of cascading falls in the jungles of Belize,

the splash of your wavy hair flowing in a summer breeze.

Where rising suns cannot compare to the glow upon your face,

I’m warmed to my very core; the cold has left no trace.

.

With eyes as deep and all-consuming as is the vast Pacific,

their depths so never-ending I can find no phrase specific.

Your subtle lips glistening, a silent language spoken,

still or parted, my semaphore, together I wish unbroken.

.

A brilliance of mind and sharpened wit, a formula to confound

Whilst pure of heart with soulful passions amaze and astound

And when I rest my head to sleep and your image begins to blur,

I envision a ballerina floating through the moonlit air.

.

Touching down on slippered feet, the foundation of my life,

where I’ll dream again of a poem unwritten – for a lovely wife.

~

Sck122814

Final Farcical Fantasy

~

Some lyrical words to piss some off,

some will laugh, cry, scream or scoff.

It’s one man’s opinion and nothing more,

yet when the damage done there is no cure.

.

“We the people” – (unless your broke),

“life, liberty and happiness”, what a joke.

It’s freedom for some, never all,

so forget your worries at the mall.

.

The air is hot, skip the coat,

but buy a boat so you can float.

Then folic in that bobbing shit –

of vulgar words spewed by a bigot.

.

A genetic failure of mankind,

a big dyed head and little mind.

Tiny hands embracing arms,

killing more dropping bombs.

.

So follow the clown to crazy town.

Unless of course a shade of brown.

But pinheads, racist’s and sexist’s welcome,

kiss his ass and maybe get some.

.

Standing tall above us all,

to your knees and heed his call.

Feed more to that bloated girth.

Then the roach shall inherit the earth.

~*~

sck081916

Shades of Dark

Sonnets of emotion; love and devotion

Poetry of gloom and despair

Words that swell from within

Seeping doubt and fear

.

Alas the pen will scrape the bottom

Of the well I wish to dry

But brittle, little shards of black

Have crusted in my eye

.

Tears will form, puddles made

And ink again will flow

Pools crinkle up my sheets

The sunrise makes them glow

.

Perhaps today a limerick

A laugh to share with all

Or maybe a teeny tiny Haiku

Powerful yet small

.

The mornings bring answers

Always something new

But as the day brightens

I find I have no clue

.

The sun is high and I am low

Waiting for the night

There I’ll share my world with demons

Where the dark share equal sight

.

~*~

sck052815

Day Anew or Deja Vu

I woke up nice and early,
to start my day off right.
I tip-toed to the kitchen,
to watch the new day’s light.
~
I made myself a coffee,
one sugar but never cream.
The water didn’t boil;
I thought it was a dream.
~
I went back to the bedroom;
I found I was still there.
I slept rather peacefully;
it gave me quite a scare.
~
The cat was also sleeping,
curled up in a ball.
I gave her a little scratch,
she didn’t move at all.
~
I nudged my sleeping wife,
she didn’t make a peep.
I cuddled up beside her,
hoping I’d fall asleep.
~
The cat was first to rise,
soon jumping off the bed.
My wife then too awoke,
turning her pretty head.
~
She didn’t even see me,
as I lay there by her side.
I could see she was awake,
her eyes were open wide.
~
I feared that I was dead,
now a ghost out to haunt.
I gazed into the mirror,
I did look rather gaunt.
~
My wife started screaming,
shaking the sleeping me.
I knew we had a problem;
the evidence’s plain to see.
~
The alarm then started ringing,
time came into view.
I gasped for needed air;
I then started the day anew.

~*~
SCK103022

Java Java Java

My silent alarm, works every day.

Dreams of coffee wafting my way.

I get up quick to make water hot.

Then longingly watch the drips in the pot.

.

When half way full the process proceeds.

The quest begins for the rest of my needs,

A big cup, of course, some sugar and cream.

And something to stir a new coffee dream.

 .

My brew perks away then perks me up.

There’s nothing better than a second cup.

To sip and to savor and share the sunrise.

The beauty’s doubled with wide open eyes.

 .

I think it’s the drink I drink the most,

Columbian, Sumatra or a dark French Roast.

Whole-bean or ground, instant or drip,

They all taste great from the very first sip.

.

Winter hands on a hot mug are nice.

In the summer it’s refreshing with ice,

Or a flavorful syrup or tasty ice cream.

Chocolate covered beans, better than they’d seem.

.

Coffee’s always dessert after desserts.

But it can stain teeth, pants and shirts.

A treat always perfect to end a long day,

A book, a snack and a decaf, my way.

.

Huddled comfy in a favorite chair,

Sharing the quiet with a loved-one near.

Til pages blur and sleepy eyes meet,

Then goodnight kisses and a last sip that’s sweet.

…

Sck112814

https://www.tumblr.com/teaberrybee/104066178111/a-collaboration-between-two-partners-in-rhyme

Cookies

Cookies, cookies the perfect treat.
Eat them in shoes, socks or bare feet.
I’ve eaten them in my underwear.
You can eat them nude, if you dare.

Sometime just one, sometimes more,
Fresh from the oven or the store.
I prefer fresh, chocolate goo.
But from a box or bag will do.

There’s no time of the day or night,
When eating cookies isn’t right.
When times are good a cookie’s great.
When times are bad I might need eight.

In the kitchen with mom to bake,
The perfect gift cookies will make.
Cookies soon done and into the car,
Then to grandma’s house, it isn’t far.

That smell of cookies is taunting me,
Under the foil where I can’t see.
But I must wait, we’re almost there.
With bunches of cookies for us to share.

We pull in the drive, rush to the bell.
Running so fast I almost fell.
But I held tight to that plate in hand.
I don’t like my cookies mixed with sand.

My big pile of goodness for us to eat,
Stacked high on a plate, nice and neat.
Mom opens the door, I run right in.
Hugs for all, let the party begin!

The girls dance about in pretty new dresses.
The boys run and shout and make big messes.
When we’re done yelling, screaming and raving,
It’s time to quench our cookie craving.

Then back to the car and homeward bound.
Soon dozing off to a breezy sound.
While thinking of cookies I start to dream,
About a world of cookies and cream.

Cookies, cookies the anytime treat.
Eat them at home or the backseat.
You can eat them everywhere,
On the ground or high in the air.

Cookie rockets go to the stars.
Cookies for wheels on our cars.
I dream of a world of cookie dough.
Freshly baked and ready to go.

Cookies for beds for us to sleep,
We’ll count cookies instead of sheep.
Cookies we’ll roll all over town.
We’ll get some milk to wash them down.

A non-round cookie won’t be right.
Remember the poor gingerbread’s plight.
Cookies not round we’ll call them fakes.
They can all be just biscuits or cakes.

If all cookies where round by law.
We wouldn’t have circles or arcs to draw.
The sun would be a cookie shape.
And big cookie craters on a cookiescape.

A bump in the road made my dream roll away.
I’ll dream another, another day.
Where almost home and I’m glad.
A quiet snack is never bad.

It’s getting late, my day’s almost done,
But one last thing that’s always fun.
In-between the wash, rub and scrub.
I nibble a cookie in my tub.

But I never ever eat cookies in my bed.
You’ll sleep real crumby or so it’s said.
And now it’s time to turn off the light.
Sweet dreams to all and have a goodnight.

The End

Sck112914

Global Types

Sex, size, color and age

All are things we instantly gauge

All depending on our points of view

Seven billion, give or take a few

~

Hair, clothes, face an eyes

All are things we choose to disguise

All dependent on another’s view

But just one decides and that’s you

~

Stereotypes, media-hypes, everybody’s taking swipes

Each one sharing in each other’s gripes

Yet share we must to survive

While still we share, being alive

~*~

Sck063015

Destiny

Waking each day before sunrise

Clear yesterday’s fog from today’s eyes

Good and bad laid bare for all too see

The clocks delicate hands controlling me

 

Pump caffeine and nicotine into my veins

To the roads ever-changing lanes

Dodging the many obstacles’ of life

Dreaming of home, child and wife

 

The destiny of modern man

Selling our souls for all we can

But soon returning home to love and family

Reminded that the best things in life are free

 

Sck091514

A Day on the Farm

The sun’s our clock, rooster alarm.

Up to start a day on the farm.

Fresh air and sunshine all long day.

Eat our breakfast then on our way.

.

I put on my boots, coat and hat.

And find a glove under the cat.

Out the door to the bunnies hutch.

They eat  pellets they don’t like much.

.

My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

.

Next we’re off to feed the plump hens.

Gather eggs, clean muddy pig pens.

We’ll hose it down then slop the sows.

Grab our pails and milk the cows.

.

Feed the mare, sleeps in the sable.

I’ll ride her soon when I’m able.

First she’s brushed then gets oats and hay.

We do all these things twice a day

.

In the garden, vegetables grow.

Sprout from seeds we plant in a row.

Water well, pluck weeds in between.

Shoe away pests when they’re seen.

.

When all the digging and feeding’s through.

There’s still more on a farm to do.

Pick fresh fruit for mom’s best jelly.

Yummy sweet, wiggles in my belly.

.

Orange balloons float above ground.

Pumpkin pies shared all around.

Our beans are red and peas are green.

The tastiest rainbows ever seen.

.

Life on the farm is so much fun.

Little to do when work is done.

Get up early, busy all day.

We eat our supper then hit the hay.

*

The End

sck091314

Gray Hare

A requested tribute / sequel to “White Rabbit”

(Original lyrics by Jefferson Airplane)

~*~

One pill picks you up

One knocks you to the floor

And the ones the doctor gave you

Don’t do the same anymore

Go see Alex

When he’s feeling sure

~

And if you go chasing some dream

And you know you’ll run all day

Tell’em the caterpillar’s now a butterfly

And the color flew away

Go ask Alex

When he dyed his gray

~

When the chessmen in the boardroom

Give up but they won’t let you quit

And the mushrooms now with steak and beer

And your brain runs out of wit

Go tell Alex

I think he’ll fit

~

When climate and aggression

Have made us all to fear

And the White Knight’s now a talking head

And the Red Queen’s a man with flair

Remember what Bugs Bunny said

Feed the heir, feed the heir

~*~

Sck072515

Relies

There’s a quiet in the darkness,
our sun yet to rise.
Beauty’s still in hiding,
only truth’s before our eyes.
~
Soon the dawn will beckon,
shedding the world’s disguise.
Silence then a memory,
light exposing the lies.
~
The world now filled with sunshine,
always a pleasant surprise.
Then we wait for the sunset,
again to feel we’re wise.
~
By day we have distraction,
evenings we revise.
Sleep brings us solace,
giving strength to ask the whys.
~
Questions fill our heads,
life’s answers we surmise.
Half asleep or awake,
tomorrow is our prize.

~*~
SCK032424

Viscous Visceral Visions

~

Poet’s pen words as painters paint hues,

each exploring infinite shades of the blues.

Whether a canvas large or ragged scrap small,

quills and brushes cover them all.

.

Syllables shade the sentence with shadow,

of portraits deep and seascapes shallow.

While watercolors will always wash away,

ink and oils shimmer for another day.

.

Surreal or real really anything goes,

whether rhyming verse, freeform or prose.

Maybe some Shakespeare or dogs playing cards,

velvet backs drape to both blind and bards.

.

Ropes of velvet secure master pieces.

A sandwich of glass will smooth out the creases.

Though nothing’s smooth in a perfect sense,

waves perpetually bristle from light to dense.

.

Mirrors project light already seen.

Reflection occurs on the matted screen.

Largeness lingers, all mediums fade,

little’s lost when something is made.

.

What’s unmade forever unknown,

forever unseen and can never be grown.

Whatever’s not lost will be our gains.

And when tears dry an image remains.

~*~

Sck022116

New Beginnings and Finished Ends

Today’s a new day, today’s a new start.
When feeling creative everything’s art.
Today’s the day I’ll get back on track.
Yesterday’s gone and now I’m back.
~
I wasn’t blue and that’s always good,
cos when I am I write more than I should.
I wasn’t too busy, I can always make time.
It wasn’t mechanics, I can always rhyme.
~
I’ve got some ideas but scattered are they.
I’ve got lots of words but little to say.
But today’s a new day, then’s now the past.
So write I must, cos today’s ending fast.

~*~
SCK072223

Imagining Real Fantasy

Grunts, growls, nods and shrugs
Smiles, laughter, kisses and hugs
Ashes smeared on homes rock wall
Soon words flow free, seemingly natural

.

Lessons learned, lessons shared
Lessons remembered, fierce feared
Nurtures nudged, natures shaped
Bodies tortured, minds raped

.

Minds make from minds made
Mountains tumble, foundations laid
Sky’s scraped, outer spaced and arms raced
Hole in the sky, Earth’s tears cry, life traced

.

Trails, trials, words and meanings don’t just appear
Nothing’s truly discovered if someone’s already there
We learn from others mistakes, less from their good
We do all the things that we’re told we should

.

We learn from books written by others, as they choose
Remembering what we choose, when in pretty prose
Reality is, as what fantasy was
History’s reality that was just because

.

So because became to hide the shame
But the causes that cause are still the same
History’s posted now, in real-time
Fantasy posted all the time

.

Reality’s fantasy some of the time
Fantasy’s reality most of the time
Most everything we hear, feel, think and see
Imagined and created just for us, thus fantasy

.

I speak in riddle, write in rhyme
Never say much, most of the time
When speaking I stutter, ramble and blather
So when thinking, write I’d rather

.

Then edit out space in-between
With the time never to be seen
Then post to a post I write as a ghost
A post that I host to share with the most

.

I can’t imagine a fantasy more real
When reality’s made with fantastical zeal
Just a note, I make stuff up; don’t know if it’s true
I’m just real confused, I imagine, just like you

.

Sck012715

Sandbox

.

Shades of blue peeking through gray

Spring is here and outside we’ll play

First thing I’ll do is hug my tree

It’s waited alone all winter for me

~

In my backyard under that tree

Is my most favorite place to be

Swing’s on one side, sandbox the other

And a house above for my big brother

~

I’ll fly for a while on my swing

And listen to the birdies sing

Then to the place I love the best

Where I can build castles or take a rest

~

My sandbox is this magic place

A shipwreck beach or planet in space

It’s a summer toy box in my backyard

And cleaning up is never hard

~

Though last summer we made a big mess

I played in the mud in my best dress

We found a small puddle, my friend and I

The last thing needed for our mud pie

~

First scooped with shovels, most was spilled

Thought of a bucket, then soon filled

A couple of pails and puddle’s dry

But the sand’s to soupy for our mud pie

~

So we dug in the yard to get more sand

The sand was brown, squishy in hand

But it was fun, mushy and wet

A sandbox time we’ll never forget

~

Then my brother jumped in with a splash

Mud flew high, our clothes where trash

Then mom came out, we thought she’s mad

Till she hosed us down, now we’re all glad

~*~

Sck080315

Penergy

With every turn there’s something new

With every friend there may be two

When lost turn back and be found

Or continue onward for another round

 *

When riding high remember the low

When down and out get up and go

Positive and negative are just a charge

We’re the conduits for life’s barrage

*

While energy travels equally both ways

As does the dark and light of days

Except we choose our forces flow

A wispy crackle or auras that glow

 *

With dynamics of pen and static of pulp

And invisible energy of letters we sculpt

Seemingly pulled from the thin air

Heavy with visions for all to share

*

This energies free, but the heat is not

So to feel the cool, you have to get hot

If you want mellow, you can’t get blue

If your yellow, you won’t do

 *

But if you’re prepared for a tremendous surge

Patience and passion is what I urge

~

sck012215