Forest of Hell

Colorless leaf crackle beneath sole-less feet.

The smell of death lingers sweet.

Bramble thick draws blood on paper skin,

digging more deeply the deeper within.

 *

Then starlight fades to the darkness I fear,

moonlight shadows disappear.

Columns abound supporting endless night,

numbers multiply consuming the light.

 *

Welcome dew hangs heavy in unseen air,

to drink deep I do not dare.

Outstretched hands replace teary useless eyes.

Senses heightened, alert of endless cries.

 *

Vibrations of night; soft, loud, far and near,

distant from all, we all hold dear.

Wanting now only to curl-up and weep,

my soul is still for the sickle to reap.

 *

Return to the path I lost yesterday,

blackness turns slowly to gray.

Long nights journey in the forest of hell,

surviving again, except for my shell.

 *

The End

*

sck~ c.2014

Seems To Be

It seems like only yesterday when time was on my side.
The future was ahead with opportunities far and wide.
The world, it seems, my oyster with all its slime and goo.
The pearls were for my plucking; now they are but few.
~
My words no longer flow and little seems to please.
Perhaps it’s just boredom or my mind is now at ease.
Age may be the culprit; it seems to fit the bill.
Birthdays cause reflection as they always will.
~
The image that is seen may not be what it seems.
Tomorrow I’ll be younger, but only in my dreams.
Today I watched the sunrise, it seems, a perfect day.
I think I’ll wake my love and kiss these blues away.

~*~
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Habitual Ritual

From dreams inspired overnight,
her morning poem I long to write.
I wake at dawn feeling bliss,
thinking first of the day’s first kiss.
~
The kiss returned and we snuggle close.
Our ritual’s begun with a timely dose.
Her touch is felt from head to toe.
I love you shared and feelings grow.
~
Our room brightens, the future’s new.
The sun wakes to skies of blue.
I hold her close till dreams return.
I then rise with none to yearn.
~
Passion flows and coffee brews.
Words perk from flavors to choose.
Visions recalled, emotions poured.
Ink boils from the one adored.
~
Shadows dance to a beating heart.
Her eyes open to another start.
Another day filled with love and bliss.
Another ode welcomed with a kiss.

~*~
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All Right

Hurry up it’s getting late,
the morning’s nearly past.
I missed today’s sunrise
and the roads are filling fast.
~
It’s not that I’ve a place to go,
or anyone I need to see.
I just like the early morning time,
it’s when my mind is free.
~
I prefer to write at first light
and be ready when my darling wakes.
She’ll sip a coffee and read her poem,
with a couple of kissing breaks.
~
Our day then starts happily
and continues through the night.
Then we’ll snuggle once again
and know that all’s alright.
~
Whispers we’ll share and more kisses too,
until our eyelids weigh.
We’ll dream about each other
and yet another wonderful day.

~*~
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Hapiphany

I think I had a hapiphany,
an epiphany of living happily.
It’s the manifestation of all things good.
And living the life I know we should.
~
Surrounded by loved ones and good friends,
my face hurts a little cos the smiling never ends.
I wake each morning eager to rise,
I watch light fill the starry night skies.
~
But with the good comes the bad,
I read the news and feel real sad.
So I write of love, joy and bliss.
Then I run upstairs for the day’s first kiss.
~
While my angel slumbers peacefully,
I rearrange animals to make room for me.
Then I slip back in bed with never a peep.
I’ll kiss her shoulder till the end of her sleep.
~
Good morning, I love you” are the first words she’ll hear.
She’ll then pull me closer with warmth to share.
She’ll open her eyes and “I love you” returned.
And a great day has started from all that I’ve learned.

~*~
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A Vision Revision

I’ve come to notice a problem today.
The problem’s a word that poets say.
It’s actually a word we all overuse.
So I’ll create a new one as I choose.
~
This word, off course, is love you see.
It should be precise, but it’s used differently.
We all can love many, many things,
like puppies and babies and backyard swings.
~
But love is different when shared by two.
When the love you give comes back to you.
When every kiss is whole body felt,
when making love makes your mind melt.
~
When saying goodbye you can’t let go.
And time apart passes far too slow.
When holding each other’s hand feels just right.
And you fall asleep cuddling every night.
~
Now this poem’s getting long and I’ve still no clue.
But my time’s now for pondering, that’s what I do.
So I’ll share this thought with my lovely sweetheart.
And we’ll kiss and giggle then it’s back to the start.

~*~
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Pondering Perfection

I lay awake throughout the night,
ponder do I of what to write.
The morning comes and again I rise.
The page sits blank before my eyes.
~
My head’s foggy the skies clear,
air’s cool and autumn’s near.
My love slumbers, her heat I feel.
My heart warms to what’s now real.
~
A morning ritual loved so much;
I kiss her forehead with a gentle touch.
Hours to pass for her to rise,
a poem awaits her sleepy eyes.
~
Smiles and kisses we then share.
Our need for each other we’re much aware.
My mind now settled and troubles cease.
Another day’s begun with love, joy and peace.

~*~
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Status Quo

I’ve got nothing to say,
but that’s OK,
maybe again tomorrow.
~
I’ve no new ideas,
observations or fears,
no places I plan to go.
~
I’ve got coffee to drink,
a place to think,
but my thoughts a definite no-show.
~
So I’ll sit and just wait,
it’s never too late,
something will come I know.
~
With the sun now bright,
I see the light,
words now starting to flow.
~
My poem’s now done,
it’s silly but fun,
my face’s now all aglow.
~
So good morning to you,
and whatever you do,
do it with vigor and gusto.

~*~
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The Ends

I wrote a poem called yesterday when I was not so old.
I wrinkled it up and threw it away because the story’s been told.
I could write about tomorrow but the end would be a guess.
I could share some happy thoughts but what if the end’s a mess.
~
I could just write something simple and I’ll name it today.
Although this day’s not over yet so far it’s been OK.
So I’ll let you know soon how my little poem worked out.
It could be short or too long but an end there is no doubt.

~*~
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Real Fiction

I sat to write a love poem,
but fiction got in the way.
My heart now is still,
alone another day.
~
Maybe eyes will meet,
there’s smiles shining bright.
Perhaps our hands will touch,
and lead us into the night.
~
Our spirits ever closer,
warming our moonlit stroll.
Our lips free to explore,
the pleasures of our soul.
~
Whispers echo softly,
our bodies intertwine.
I am hers completely,
she’s completely mine.
~
The morning sun will rise,
again eyes will meet.
Our hands again will touch,
a new day we will greet.
~
Our love will last a lifetime,
together we’ll always be.
I’ll write a million love poems,
but for now just fictionality.

~*~
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The Return

Outside my window perched in a tree
Tis a winged demon that caws at me
At me it caws and caws all day
Till darkness consumes then caws go away

Tis then a candle lit, awaiting peace
Creative spark await release
The hourly chime hourly chides
This spark within creatively hides

Searching I pace in this tiny room
From shadow to shadow returning to gloom
Going in circles around in a square
Till wearily I slump back into my chair

Through random lacy limbs I spy the moon
With gentle breezes the patterns I swoon
Patterns swooning dance on dingy walls
The net surrounds and the demon calls

Consciousness concedes, silence relieves
In the dark the dark the mind believes
Rest and wait or rise and scream
Choices few at the edge of a dream

Wax drippings lapping pages bled
Of serpentine spine and heavy head
Blackness cloaks the demons night
Their quills aplenty shade the light

Demon, oh demon please let me be
Yet still they tap, tapping for me
Tap tap tapping on my foggy pane
Tap, tap tapping with no refrain

Without refrain demons tap in kind
Tapping demons tap, tapping my mind
Is this tapping, tapping to remind?
Or is it tapping to seek and find?

Oh demon cloaked with hidden face
To take from you is my disgrace
Your gifts adored left on my sill
Yet to rest on your back I am still

To be only still is reverse
Dive or fall, a lover’s curse
To soar or sink is to immerse
The spirit wishes to guide the verse

This spirit and I of common goal
Each to rise from the hole
One to fly, one to scratch and claw
Each may fall, one to caw, caw, caw

Our bond’s made to find a link
If to trade my soul I wish to think
I wish to think another’s ink
Of golden quills and wine to drink

In gilded glass I wish to wink
Then step away until I shrink
Till all is gone with a blink
But for the ink, I wish to think

I think I think, I think I see
I think I see light shines on me
Sight and sound now distortion free
The path’s clear toward tranquility

If to be a final rest, now’s to be the time
Drifting in an open mind is to be sublime
Or if to rise and most joyfully find
I’ve awakened as a different kind

To be warm of heart and cool of mind
Forward moving and never behind
Of filigree hands to align and chime
Tis then the taps return, tapping in time

Taps on the window from arms of the past
To embrace their grip the future’s cast
When cracks appear in my shield of glazing
The demon swoops for the dawns hazing

With inky beak and beating wings
Caw, caw, caw the demon sings
They dance upon the empty pages
Quills ablaze their fire rages

Then morning breaks the lidded seal
Illuminating all thought real
Am I to be taker or to consume?
Or wake to sunlight returning to gloom

Betwixt the shadows exposed by the light
Tis demons craft conjured last night
With nary a blotch nor stroke askew
Flawless leaf scribed by I know not who

I dare not share these words unknown
Through my window they have flown
The prize of demons cawing in a tree
Thus return I must this gift given me

Sck122315

A Click Away

The poet’s journal’s an open book,
so come on in and take a look.
There are all the emotions to be found,
there’s also thoughts on sight, smell and sound.
~
Pages are filled with love and heartbreak,
with lots more between for give and take.
There’s sunsets galore and sunrises more,
starlit nights and seasons for sure.
~
Sometimes funny, most times not,
it might not be good but there’s a lot.
Bring your glasses and forget the phone,
with a poet to listen you’re never alone.
~
You might be a muse or giver of clues,
I may write a poem about your new shoes.
We’ll sip some coffee in the shade,
the day will end but a friendship made.
~
Our time will be logged with notes on the side,
with a flourish embellished or at least tried.
But if you can’t make it that’s OK too,
it’s all online to be shared with you.

~*~
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Awakened

I woke today a poet, dreams now in view.
The sun’s soon to rise on a world truly new.
My eyes open wide, heart beats on high.
Senses all a tingle, colors fill the sky.
~
Birds spread their joy, they sing me a song.
Their sounds inspire feelings pure and strong.
A cat sleeps on a table-top, seemingly unaware.
My darling’s soon to wake, morning we will share.
~
Thoughts and emotions again will flow.
Hugs and kisses let us both know.
The future is beginning when we rise.
Our time is surely now, why compromise.

~*~
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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

~*~

 

Sck081714