Where a river meets a bay,
a quaint sheltered village lay.
Ships of yore still ply the docks.
A tiny lighthouse warns of rocks.
Haunting sounds linger on the breeze.
Shanties of old still to please.
Times bygone we’ve all to explore.
The past opens today’s unknown door.
Nights brighter compared to the then.
Our days shorter way back when.
Yesterday’s preserve tomorrows map.
Horizons calm or a trap.
~*~
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A pad in lap a hand set free.
A mind wanders for words to see.
Emotions enhanced, troubles relieved.
Time unconditional, imagination believed.
Notes of nowhere, deciphering dared.
Scribbles scrawl, reluctance repaired.
Visions doodle in a borderless plane.
Consumed is all in a leaderless reign.
~*~
SCK071218
~*~
The penguin stands black and white.
Half a life cloaked in the night.
Creation birth’s little doubt.
A tomb within is a tomb without.
Words silence words shout.
Stature made high, real’s stout.
A planet only revolves.
Mother’s nature evolves.
Evil kills, the good resolve.
Time tells if poles dissolve.
Darkness begins when a day’s done.
The future’s bright or there is none.
Half our lives warmed by a sun.
Twice the heat when two is one.
Icy feet wish for flight.
Penguins stand, black and white
~*~
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Thank You Barbara for your inspiration!
~*~
Behind a model train, people there set.
Their never to worry nor do they fret.
The whistles blow at regular times.
Conductors conduct and the poet rhymes.
~
Silence fills the darkest of night.
A world dead ‘til morning’s light.
A flick of a switch then life turns on.
A flick of a switch and all is gone.
~*~
Sck041218
.
Poetic purgatory’s a place between,
the best of all verse never to be seen.
Visions undefinable, feelings unfelt
and sensations inconceivable, when
squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, squoze,
jumbled noise and random shapes,
blurry sounds and perception escapes.
Normalcy‘s all a part of prose.
Unheard the whispers whose echo grows,
frequency seldom as anyone knows.
Oh no, no, no and so the rhythm comes and goes.
Mind distracted by orderly thought.
Moments rest all for naught.
Escapers of dreams always caught.
Then times sold, image bought and change sought,
until the dollars sign to buy an eternity.
Though sense is never free, so why, why, why –
Why won’t desires die?
~
sck081017
~*~
Beneath the surface the hidden lies.
Lifetimes dug with nightly spies.
They’re timely spirits never seen.
Betwixt the shadows they have been.
They step in time to others cries.
Unheard are they, ahead they rise.
Parallel the paths diverged.
Wrongly spiked the forces surged.
Time is distance in disguise.
Depth perceived in mind’s wise.
Forever’s there can never be.
The past is all we get to see.
Tomorrow’s come and that’s the prize.
The present meant to capitalize.
Waves of emotion ebb and swell.
Tides of change rose and fell.
Plans charted as the crow flies.
Destinations await all surprise.
Second chances always free.
And visitors all are we.
Then there’s those which defies,
“to each their own” we’ll rationalize.
Can halves again make a whole?
The ups and downs take a toll.
With twists and turns we realize.
Life unlived without goodbyes.
~
Sck081017
~
When virtue’s taken does it come back?
When innocence gone what else do we lack?
When the time comes is it too late?
When the day’s done was it fate?
When dreams awaken was it sound?
When trust is lost what then is found?
When does a broken heart mend?
When is a lover not a friend?
When all was had what’s left to yearn?
When the damage done what did we learn?
When the pains felt haunt can life return?
And when it does; does it burn?
~*~
sck080917
~
Fifty percent of
marriages end in divorce,
the remainder’s death.
~*~
Sck080817
~
To be oil and water is to never mix.
When hearts beat out of sync the bond never sticks.
To meld fire with ice, one’s sure to melt.
Yet when chemistry is easy positive’s surely felt.
~*~
sck080617
~
Cries, Yells and Screams!
Distant black and white dreams
Monochromatic and systematic
Volume’s pitch and problematic
Concrete walls and metal stairs
Echoing the petrified and no one cares.
Mouthy aches and heady tales
Decades pass and pain prevails
~*~
sck080417
~
With each new day we do grow.
We flourish and whither till it’s time to go.
Our stay’s too short on this earth.
Life’s longest on our day of birth.
And the time betwixt is all we know.
So write it well, it is your show.
~*~
sck080317
~
Be wary what the mind bender’s say.
They’ll change a heart along the way.
Though if to hear it’s already too late,
you then wake to find no second date.
~*~
sck072117
*
In a faceless matrix of time askew
Meetings missed by seconds, few
Souls pass blindly, hearts fade blue
Til the chime awakens me and you
~*~
sck072117
~*~
In a constant state of pre-incarnation,
an old soul preps for the next incarnation.
They’ll reconstitute a Renaissance anew,
options limitless though choices are few.
They’re birthed to body without a direction.
Life’s lived unknown but for premonition.
No purpose made clear as to why we are here.
Yet these old souls sense what’s really there.
For reasons unknown and beyond speculation,
the old souls know of their next reincarnation.
And Sally like others still live on today,
ever changing the world in their own small way.
~
sck071917
~
We seek to seek a clue
for paths straight and true
where the angle we pursue
is our own point of view.
Degrees unchanged are unseen.
Answers lurk in space between.
All turns return to the mean.
Golden suns and blue sky green.
But the wind never bends.
A loner never lends.
Always best is time with friends.
And the unsummed heart someday mends.
~
sck071517
~*~
Free is what we all want to be.
A future’s what we want to see.
Imagination’s what we want it to be.
Dreams are what we choose to see.
Reality is what happens to be.
We are what is our reality.
~
sck071417
.
Beginnings and ends, naked and alone,
all’s to know then to atone.
Little wings in an Age of Aquarius,
forever is a question if forever curious.
Or never ask and never know –
which direction you should go.
Up or down or in-between-
or never go then never seen.
And never seen is never known –
never known naked and alone.
.
sck071317 / MAOA
.
Rejection’s heard and intention reversed,
when words said are “let’s be friends first”.
Regarding romance this theory’s wrong,
friendship follows and it won’t take long.
First there’s attraction with a little spark.
Nervous words follow, seemingly a lark.
Calmness soon settles then desires grow.
You talk for hours with so much more to know.
Feelings grow deeper and emotions run high,
Trust is unquestioned and your head’s in the sky.
Times had together much the same as friends,
until a kiss goodnight when your blissful day ends.
Does anyone ask for less and then expect more?
Why should romance be any less sure?
Isn’t an honest start more likely to last long?
Or start at the end, what could go wrong?
.
sck071217
.
Real is what fantasy was.
Past the future the present because.
Time’s random and watched seen.
Seasoned hands severed clean.
Eyes open to days new.
Lips count more than two.
Noses first as sayings go.
Minds think heads show.
And poems end just because.
Fantasy is when real was.
.
sck071017
Cometh hither
Do not dither
Time to writher
Less we whither
Then to slither
Back to zither
We there yet?
.
sck070817
Going, Going, Gone
~
Poetic Visions
A poet can see
the past, present and future.
Then write all the wrongs.
~
Forever Green
In time we all green,
some blossom, others jaded.
Most just get moldy.
~
Pocket Full of Poesy
We’re going to hell
in a hand-basket held by
a deplorable!
~*~
sck070617
~*~
Ships a pair moors by night.
Each’s a vision of the others light.
Tides are changing for me and you.
To time’s beyond when waves are few.
We each of passion, both pursuing free.
Findings shared, shared passionately.
An end to this poem, I have none or care.
For a future imagined is not really there.
~
sck062917
rhymesalot 