If to imagine a perfect life;
paths of ease and little strife,
morning smiles and a noon surprise,
sunsets reflected in each other’s eyes.
Our eve’s playful, toying future schemes.
Nights shared cuddling, kissing and living our dreams.
The sun then will rise for me and you.
Each day a new start of our lives anew.
Behind every smile a hidden face.
The truth beams or without a trace.
An image forged dissolves with heat.
Lies spewed oozes defeat.
Laughter forced not funny to hear.
Lines punched soon disappear.
The folly of life is the reality of death.
Friend or foe we share their breath.
Digging deep for words obscure,
most buried others with allure.
Infinite combinations unlock a soul.
But the twists and turns take their toll.
To pirouette or to crawl,
balance sought so not to fall.
Random memes are filling my brain.
The line is fine between output and insane.
Random thoughts not easily penned.
Not all poems have an end.
So today I’m a poet with a smile bright,
though reality beckons fantasy’s in sight.
Sorry to all for the dribble of late.
It’s been eight weeks since a fateful date.
T’was a muse unamused blew me away.
I left breathless for many a day.
Now it’s back to second guessing,
till that’s behind I’ve no caressing.
Bemused babblings, not ready to quip,
till then I fear just dribble from a drip.
Awaiting a shells fateful date,
eggs alone beat in wait.
When a pair scrambles to meet,
futures fertile swim to greet.
Pairs joined to each a share,
new is made over easy with care.
Hatched a recipe for pure delight,
sliding from heat, home plate’s in sight.
Yet time fragile, forking’s no joke,
bad luck befallen bound by yoke.
Getting fried never rehearsed.
And the wait answers which came first.
No matter where I stand.
I am me.
Time changes from dark to light.
I am me.
Love triumphed and vanished.
I am me.
Inspiration’s jubilation, defeat’s depressing.
I am me.
Today defines tomorrow.
I am me.
I will overcome.
I am me.
The earth still brewing,
new life was stewing.
Flora askew and fauna still new,
eat or be eaten was all they knew.
The ground untested, sulfur’s in the air.
Crazed creatures wandered unaware;
creepy crawly slithery things,
swimmers of seas and fliers with wings.
But tucked cozily in palaces of awe,
dragons feasted and pondered what they saw.
Intruders were meals, some thrown back.
And gardening was their tasty snack.
Millennia past but for the dragon too soon,
change was afoot with the handy baboon.
Their hordes grew and quickly spread.
The plundering’s swift but never to be fed.
The dragon’s numbers always small,
just a few thousand and that is all.
They’re all very patient and very, very smart.
Some of the elders saw this planet’s start.
A meeting was had, all without doubt.
The dragons decided to wait this breed out.
They hibernate now till mankind’s last blunder.
When happily woke to darkness and thunder.
A poet doomed I’ve started believe’n.
The odds it seems much better than even.
T’was born on an even day, month and year.
And I’m a Libra to boot, if you care.
An INFP, I think that means I feel stuff.
And if that alone wasn’t enough,
I’m fair of skin, odd of weight and six feet even.
A poet doomed and my name’s even Steven.
Hi, I’m the me you can’t see.
I’m the me that’s stuck in me.
The other me is the me you see.
That’s not the me that’s this me.
I know it’s hard to see,
this me that’s the real me.
Is the real me the me you see,
or the stuck me waiting to be free.
That’s the me you don’t see.
The other me too doesn’t see me.
That me thinks they’re all to see.
That me doesn’t know me.
Other than me the other me is free.
The other me speaks the words of we.
The words of me are only to see,
words of me that set me free.
I must be hell bent for pain,
am I a fool or just insane?
My head’s in the clouds, hearts on my sleeve.
A feeling love I feel will relieve.
What an idiot I must be,
thinking love will set me free.
Past love’s brought happiness and hurt.
The last threw me to the dirt.
What kind of jerk am I?
After weeks and weeks wishing to die,
I remain hell bent for the pain.
What’s a little agony when heavens to gain?
I woke this morning to see a new way.
My eyes watched the sun rise, my soul saw gray.
Love again felt and again lost.
A heart once warm’s now plagued by frost.
Winter’s coming and with it cold.
Time rushing forward’s getting old.
Nine months high on a dreamy cloud.
Then emptiness found beneath a shroud.
A future seen, maybes had.
Baggage lugged a journey’s sad.
Weighty pasts multiply fast.
Feelings divided never last.
Mind’s write the whether of the day.
And life moves on, or so they say.
A thought a glance a word or line.
What will inspire tomorrows’ rhyme?
It could be anguish or love, death or a bug.
Maybe it’s the past, future or running out of time.
Or maybe not, sometimes the present forgot.
A mind’s sometime scattered with distraction sublime.
Walls can be high and we leap or crash.
This time time leapt for today’s tomorrow’s rhyme.
Syphilis at seventy is no one’s first choice.
But after the shots you will rejoice.
For the seconds enjoyed in youthful bliss,
it’s worth every minute of that long painful piss.
Second chances are rarely found,
chances less when soon in the ground.
The time is now to sow those oats.
So munch away you horny old goats.
Mornings I wake thinking of you.
By day we share a text or two.
Evenings we chat on the phone.
Dreams soon follow and never alone.
There you’re always in my arms,
I in awe of your many charms.
Too soon the alarm will surely ring.
Then I’ll rise to hear the birds sing.
Eyes open, thankful for another day.
Passion’s felt, though far away.
Words then flow with you I’ll share.
It’s my love in verse to show I care.
Ever have a day when nothing goes right?
You get up late from a sleepless night.
The gray surrounds with no refrain.
The day’s chilly with dreary rain.
Inhale some eggs with runny yolks.
Now running behind but out of smokes,
detoured to the store to buy some more.
Rush to work, tip toe through the door.
But the boss is there, bad news had.
A report’s disappeared, computer’s bad.
The day runs long, no time for lunch.
Tomorrow’s the same, I’ve a hunch.
Then finally home but all alone.
Heat’s off and chilled to the bone.
Boiler’s ready, thermostat’s not.
Batteries needed that I forgot.
Hunger’s remembered, cupboards bare.
Cereal found, no milk to spare,
so half a box will have to do.
Nights half over, I’m glad it’s through.
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.
Time ticks forward and never reverse.
The future’s here. No time to rehearse.
Friendships await behind every smile.
Love can be found, but may be awhile.
A coal fired space force; I hear is in the works.
A test flight’s needed, let’s send some jerks.
It can be its creator with lil Mikey by his side.
I’ll gladly pack lunch for their long ride.
Cozy in their ark, endlessly they’ll float.
Lost in space, the pair can forever gloat.
No Down Side
not about making things up,
it’s making things work.
If love made as much
as the time I spend writing,
I’d no time to write.
Love is beautiful,
when all else is not. Love is
all when from the heart.
Time’s the space between events.
Events made from cause and effect.
Effects felt when closing space,
causing events to speed up the space.
Much like life, love and lust,
the time comes and in we’re thrust.
The future is and the past was,
effecting all, just because.
The pros and cons of death
are the ins and outs of breath.
The ups and downs of life
are the this and that’s of strife.
Forward or back, taut or slack,
fast or slow it’s the average we know
Top or bottom leaves in between.
Front and back the rest’s unseen.
Heads or tails the inner hides.
No coin has only just two sides.
Life is choices, more than two.
There’s more to it than me and you.
Books may contain all that’s known.
Everything else we’re on our own.
Soft or hard a landing’s assured.
Highs and lows are endured.
While ponderings spiral unabated,
decision’s made as we waited.
Time’s endless, though ours is not.
Hit or miss, it’s worth a shot.
A little critique of critics;
their last line the next predicts.
With none to explain,
they poke and complain.
But the hardened unfazed by pricks.
Just an Expression
At last old enough
for age to be an excuse
to freely express
Heads or Tails
With age comes wisdom
but all things are relative
so wise up not ass
Deep down a dipshit
lying in wait to squirt forth
and conquer an ode
Earth, Wind and Fire
It’s the last haiku
till syllables dance with lines
in three dimensions