writing

Penned Pretend

I’ve written more words than I’ve said

Just to make space in my head

I write of my demons, so they’ll go

Making room for more – I’d rather not know

~

Perhaps this is a writers curse

A play never-ending we can’t rehearse

The stage set high, the pit is deep

The curtain falls yet I can’t sleep

~

A costumed impostor, naked, pen in hand

Conducting blindly a leaderless band

Actors, black and blue all look the same

Though some quite vicious, most are tame

~

On each sheet lay a one-act play

Performing soliloquy day after day

Awaiting intermission – after applause

Make believes effect and cause

~*~

Sck062015

Perceptualist

Purveyors of perception

Is what a poet be

Sifting through the shards of life

That most choose not to see

.

Seekers of answers

No one knows for sure

The good days are great

The bad days more

.

Our love is dissected

Cutting up the muse

In search of a beating heart

Something we can use

.

Dives dismally deep

Doling out despair

Climbs quite climatic

Seemingly without a care

.

Our minds are a toy

For building, breaking and play

Scattered pieces everywhere

What will we find today?

~*~

Sck062015

Day Dreaming Reality

.

Portraits of time and of self

Antiquities dusty upon the shelf

Volumes of reference to explore

Nature’s framed beyond glazed door

.

A pretender perched many a year

Penning in silence for all to hear

Words, numbers and colors all float by

Till looming shadows shade a sunny sky

.

This past’s the shadow to reflect

Reminders of the pasts neglect

Selling the former to fund tomorrow

When even good times odds say sorrow

.

Betting the future to play today

Retirement in the opposite way

It’s yesterday’s dream to say “I am!”

Today a poet, tomorrow a scam

.

Or just a dreamer dreaming a dream

Building castles by the ream

A hopeful realm to rest an ancient head

Dreaming forever in my feathered bed

~*~

Sck061315

Closed (temporarily)

Due to insecurity

This life of mine cannot be free

Brain’s cluttered with negative stuff

This uphill charge – I’ve had enough

~

Words all mean different things

Too many choices a sentence brings

Paragraphs explode exponentially

Random letters pour down on me

~

The sun comes out, I work indoors

On my day off it rains for sure

All my pencils say “NO” today

They too are tired of writing gray

~

My mind now wanders to parts unknown

Surrounded by friends, feeling alone

With aging body and child’s mind

A place to fit I’ve yet to find

~

I’m sorry for wasting your precious time

I guess it best to end this rhyme

~

Sck042615

Poetry in Mime

                                             .
                                         .
                              ,                    .
                  ,                   –                 .

              ,                  ,                   .
                                              ?
                                         .
                                             !!!

~
sck032515

Good Night

A flickering lantern swings gently in my night

Upon a fell tree sat this shaky hand to write

My moon does glow, shadows to grow

Fear and inhibitions go, words will flow

 ~*~

‘til fiery red pupil flares, the looming eye of morning peers

Above the distant hills the dewy dawn burns

Dusty light surrounds and sounds of life return

Yet it is the dark of my night that I truly yearn

 ~

Sck030215

Springs Both Ways

My grass gets tall, I don’t care
My neighbor’s old, I have no fear
A porch to sit, a pen to push
A comfy cushion for my tush

~

Singing birdies in the bush
A barking dog, I whisper “shush”
A gentle breeze across my face
A stolen moment from the human race

~

My mind’s racing to outer-space
Thoughts flowing at breakneck pace
A blink of an eye, I hit a wall
My brain is blank, nothing at all

~*~

sck030215

Energy

We laugh and cry, we bleed and lie

We share, we care, we dare to fear

Hugs and kisses, winks and smiles

All hand in hand over infinite miles

~

With ears to hear and eyes to see

 Blending thoughts of you and me

This place unique, where all are free

 ~

A place like home wherever we roam

Our roaming’s recorded in cyber tome

Then blended together to build something grand

All made from our minds and energized sand

 *

 

Sck012915

Bird Brain

I saw a bird in a tree.

I said “hey bird talk to me.”

He turned around, we had a chat.

I wrote it down and that was that.

We said good-bye and I flew home.

I sat right down to write this poem.

 *

But lost the notes stuffed in my vest,

And whence returned I found a nest.

“My birds prose lost, how can this be?”

I said “hey bird look at me.”

She looked down so she could see,

A babbling bird brain talking to a tree.

 *

I yelled “give back my notes in your nest.”

She returned the anger, on my vest.

I started to yell one more time.

Then thought; save the vest, forget this rhyme,

A cozy nest is better than a talking bird poem.

I just hope I think of something else when I get home.

~

sck012815