~
Good memories keep,
let the bad fade – then there’s room
for when better’s made.
~*~
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~
Good memories keep,
let the bad fade – then there’s room
for when better’s made.
~*~
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Shuffling through the shifting sands.
Time is written in our hands.
Traversing all; sea and lands.
Around and around for second strands.
~
Looking past our treasured finds,
the future’s seen in our minds.
Collages made of all kinds,
bloods the bond that blurs and binds.
~
Legs propel for fear or fun,
the past remains; we cannot run.
Reality’s ours seek or shun,
the face is yours, the time’s begun.
~*~
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To be a poet one must only write.
And be in awe of day and night.
Inspiration abounds without refrain.
Absorb all, both pleasure and pain.
~
I didn’t ask to be me or you, you.
But to express is what we do.
Not all writes can be a song.
But no writes are ever wrong.
~
Dawn welcomes most every day.
Shadows of the dark go either way.
Sleep’s never quite enough.
Dreams fill time with better stuff.
~
And love it seems is part of the deal.
Hearts will break, to bleed we heal.
The soul burns to see the light.
To be a poet one must only write.
~*~
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Penned in my head words leak out.
Even tone’s seen with never a shout.
There’s no laughter, whispers or a scream.
The sun doesn’t shine nor does the moon beam.
~
In two dimensions my thoughts do lie.
Depth filtered through one blind eye.
Torn between paper and time,
my heart beats on rhythm and rhyme.
~
Love’s too easy when inspiration’s free.
Fear’s too real when the enemy’s me.
Fantasy’s seen with a panoramic view.
Consumption’s felt when all the colors blue.
~
Life’s many a hue with every shade of gray.
But black and white’s what we read every day.
Yesterday shapes where our todays begin.
And tomorrows start when life leaks in.
~*~
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Caution-
Image in mirror
Is milliseconds older
upon reflection
*
A Positive Negative View-
When sunny days dark
Negative ink shades dark light
Starry nights all’s bright
*
Prepoetry-
A poet’s muscle
Sculpted one word at a time
A very long time
~*~
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Step into my diorama.
Leave the present behind.
Troubles soon will fade away.
Simpler times fill the mind.
~
Rest your weary body.
Sense an ocean breeze.
Feast your eyes to candlelight.
Dream of what you please.
~
Sit beside the fire.
Music fills the air.
Welcome home my old friend.
We’ve time I’d like to share.
~*~
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My mind is still, I know not why.
My eyes are open, I see the sky.
My ears are working, I hear the birds.
My mouth hangs open, but no words.
~
My hand fidgets with paper and pen.
Something will happen, but I know not when.
Perhaps some time is what I need.
And when it’s done more ink I’ll bleed.
~
But till then I will pursue,
all the feelings, but the blue.
I’ll live my life and I’ll dream.
I’ll have adventures, but none extreme.
~
Memories I’ll draw on a canvas bright,
stars will guide in the dark of night.
And when my thoughts again do flow,
it’s harmony I feel this I know.
~*~
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Love at first sight or something new,
you look at me looking at you.
Eyes meet, head’s say “WHEW”.
Heart’s pounding, now it’s two.
~
Who smiles first, who looks away?
Who speaks first, what’s there to say?
Could this be our lucky day?
Or déjà vu the other way.
~*~
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Time for a fix, my daily need.
It’s not booze, powder or weed.
It’s just words, but they won’t flow.
The sun’s high and I want to go!
~
Just a drop to get me through.
The lines ready and my pencil too.
My grass is bagged; I need a light.
The spark’s gone where once was light.
~
Wants wanting and desires to fulfill.
Caffeine’s pumping, sugar’s my pill.
Jone’s are calling, it’s time to split.
Habits habitual, mine’s now lit.
~*~
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How many colors have you seen?
How many shades in between?
How many seconds till the day is through?
How many more before the day is new?
~
How many questions must I ask?
How many answers to complete the task?
How many times can I persist?
How many times can I resist?
~
How many redundancies before I’m done.
How many more was it than one?
How many poems must I write?
How many days will I see night?
~*~
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I’m a little older now, I think I know what’s up.
I don’t go sniffin’ for shit like some young pup.
I keep my nose clean, and my head held up high.
The only way up is to reach for the sky.
~
Know what you’re sayin’ and who you’re talkin’ to.
Put a smile on your face and make the feeling true.
Help a stranger when in need, never passing blame.
Keep it real every day, this ain’t no stinkin’ game.
~*~
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A day without time and no place to be.
I’ll rise with sun and bathe in the sea.
I’ll watch the grass grow and clouds float by.
I’ll live off the land and breathe in the sky.
~
A day without time sounds great to me.
I’ll live out my life being happy and free.
There will be no pain or any reason to cry.
There’s no compilation or a reason to lie.
~
A day without time is a day full of glee.
There are starlit nights and nothing to flee.
A day without time, I’d sure love to try.
But then the alarm that needs my reply.
~*~
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I feel a masterpiece is on the way.
But don’t look now, it’s not today.
I’ll write it all in a lyrical rhyme.
I’ll write of joy and precious time.
.
I’ll write of life and of love.
I’ll write of stars that shine above.
I’ll write of places that we’ve seen.
And the quiet times in between.
.
We’ve delightful dinners with lovely views,
and our times together with no shoes.
I’ll write of walks in the sand.
I’ll write of sunsets hand in hand.
.
I feel this masterpiece is well underway.
I feel it growing every day.
Now volumes I’ll write of loving you.
With a lifetime ahead before it’s through.
~*~
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Never stop growing, learning or asking why.
Leave a long to-do list on the day you die.
Live your life with zeal, never looking back.
Emphasize the positives not what you lack.
~
Always pay your dues, enjoy what you gain.
Be kind to others, never causing pain.
Share a smile daily and get one in return.
Always use your sunscreen, never get a burn.
~*~
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I need a bigger clock,
my watch seems to lie.
The spaces are too small,
and the hands seem to fly.
~
I need to see where time goes.
I can’t believe it’s me.
I only scroll a little.
And only when time’s free.
~
But that little watch keeps lying.
It tells me hours have flown past.
The stupid phone agrees.
I think the problems vast.
~
It must be a conspiracy,
drawing people to their laps.
Our future’s passing by,
and we’re now hunched like saps.
~
I’m going to go cold turkey.
When I’m done, we’ll share a toast.
But that I’ll start tomorrow.
Today I need to post.
~*~
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Mornings give light.
Emotion fills night.
Eyes force sight.
Legs flee plight.
.
Opinions oft slight.
Truth’s never quite.
Souls know right.
Minds will fight.
.
Hearts feel blight.
Tomorrows bring fright.
Yesterday lends insight.
Fortitude means might.
.
Sparks do ignite.
Love shines bright.
Hands do write.
Life’s to delight.
~*~
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A weighty world’s upon my back
Frigid nights, shades of black
Paths all upward, no end in sight
Scorching days, blinding bright
Blistered hands can scream no more
In search of peaks with rains to cure
Inspiration awaits, so climb I must
For the daily quench of a poets lust
Sck111614
I’m sorry I have no poem today.
I’ve actually started two.
But I have no endings.
So I’ve nothing to share with you.
~
Fortunately there are tomorrows.
Perhaps I’ll end them then.
Or maybe this is a metaphor;
for the fickleness of the pen.
~
Many things get started.
Only some will see an end.
But until there’s a conclusion,
a finish, we can pretend.
~
So I’ll pretend my poems are great.
They start off really well.
And I’ll imagine it’s a perfect day.
For the unknown we shouldn’t dwell.
~*~
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With these strings, I thee bled,
fingers raw and eyes red.
Sounds of the day fill my head.
Emotion speaks with words unsaid.
~
With six strings I am fed.
Good vibration is my med.
Tension’s tuned and compression shed.
Harmony pledged. To honor bred.
~
With my strings I have wed.
Our ties bound by common thread.
Sweet melodies or what’s instead?
I’ll have and hold till I’m dead.
~*~
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Yesterday I won a ride on a Willy ship
Wasn’t long but a sweet little trip
Talked about the sun and jumbo gumdrops
Laughed at the moon and fuzzy lollipops
*
Weightless in a dark chocolate sky
Chasing ants – Oh! How fast they fly
Confections consume, the slim lie waist-ed
The best of the worse I’ve ever tasted
*
Rainbow sprinkles linger, floating past
Though sugar eyes aren’t meant to last
Adventures end on marshmallow bed
Sticky goo all stuck in my head
*
Tummy aches and tired teeth hurt
My cocoa now looks and tastes like dirt
But candy bars will, will never stop me
Needed warmth they’re enjoyed tooth free
*
Sliding down the licorice string
To rest in a basket bunnies bring
Waiting for hands of time to shake no more
Then I’ll re-wrap and go out for s’more
*
sck102214
Are you the me that I can’t see?
Or I you, one half of two?
If but one, who then are you?
If you’re the one, what’s to do?
~
I’m confused, both conned and fused.
We share a body, everything’s used.
We’ve got hands and feet, both left and right.
We have two eyes that see the same light.
~
But our sides divided, never to agree.
Perhaps a split, each then free.
I think you should go and create a new life.
I feel it best you leave, be done with this strife.
~
The battle goes on, both being stuck.
Each barely manages without some luck.
I did have an end to make all laugh and shout.
But then the editor took the good stuff out.
~
The Middle
~*~
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His name was Gurmumble,
or so it was said.
Gurmumble’s the sound,
comes out of his head.
~
Ask him a question,
anything you choose.
Gurmumble, he’d answer,
looking down at his shoes.
~
Gurmumble was teased,
folks called him a freak.
But he’s actually, quite normal,
he just couldn’t speak.
~
High School was soon starting,
Gurmumble was rightly scared.
The building was enormous,
much bigger than he feared.
~
His first week was horrible,
he’s a target to be teased.
Gurmumble was unfazed,
the bullies left displeased.
~
Come fall his novelty waned,
Gurmumble was now free.
Excelling at his studies,
he had a learning spree.
~
By Spring Gurmumble’s smitten,
but he couldn’t say a word.
So, he wrote his crush a poem,
the prettiest she’d ever heard.
~
He wrote her a poem each day,
awaiting her response.
And when she finally smiled,
it was Gurmumble’s Renaissance.
~
All the girls were swooning;
the boys were just confused.
Gurmumble’s now a star,
no longer feeling abused.
~
His poems now sung as songs,
Gurmumble plays guitar.
His loving girlfriend sings,
I’m sure they’re going far.
~*~
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