writing

Plan B

I’m writing a poem with a camera obscurer

Alone in the dark with my pen and a mirror

I’ll copy all the words, line for line

Just shapes through a lens, better than mine

 ~

At the glass’s edge all becomes clear

Words arranged, scribed without fear

Reflections honest, colors vivid and true

Time imagined – visions of you

 ~

By hearth embraced for evermore

Framed with care, hung by the door

Shadows of day will come and go

Our depth’s captured, forever aglow

 ~*~

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When All’s Left Is Write

To write from one’s heart,
the sweetest of art,
Valentine’s every day.
~
To write from ones soul,
a most serious goal,
but stillness has its sway.
~
To write from the head,
reality’s shed,
the world’s just our way.
~
In time and space and geography’s place;
people rush by, each a new face.
All’s directing a no act play.
~
Scenes overlap and curtains fall,
script’s blank await the call.
Silence screams its say.
~
A choice to write’s a right to choose.
When darkness consumes the bright side we lose,
left only with blue and gray.
~
If a life imagined we’re to create,
chapters mate and thoughts relate.
The end’s let to stray.

~*~
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Purgatory

~

Stairs climbed to a heavenly lair

Each step reluctant of the riser’s dare

The falls grow closer the higher I go

The ground grows distant with hell below

~

This tug-of-war is fought within

Pushing and pulling each a twin

When a journey’s long, all’s to win

With stich and glue all can grin

~

Time’s not direction with a start or end

There’s no give or take, none’s to defend

To counter clock’s never wise

It’s works concealed by the faces disguise

~

Incased to shield and hands that wind

Hands to watch to lose one’s mind

Minds lost seldom found

Seconds ticking to find sacred ground

~

With no end in sight, sight has no end

Starts at viewer, depths depend

Colors attract and shades divert

See the light or life’s inert

~

The stairs again beckon, to darkness they rise

Yet tread must I to rest sleepy eyes.

~*~

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Writewright Rite

Write by day if fear of night.

Write by night if fear of light.

Write of fear if there be a fright.

Write of joy if there be no plight.

Write with passion when love’s in sight.

Write with vision when all is bright.

Write when sad to feel all right.

Write when weak to feel the might.

Write to humor but never with spite.

Write to soothe and to excite.

Write for a voice but never a slight.

Write for yourself, don’t be uptight.

Now get your pens and write write write!!!

~*~

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Withering

The bloom has gone from my fragrant rose.
Will it return, no one knows.
The thorns are still there, in my side.
The bleeding continues yet the words now hide.
~
The trellis climbed, my energy’s spent.
Yet each day I wake in search of a scent.
The ground’s now closer, I taste the dirt.
My feelings strong but now they hurt.
~
Perhaps a tree I’ll now befriend.
Trees live long, I’ll miss their end.
My pen will rest as I branch out.
I’ll climb again but poetry’s in doubt.

~*~
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Morning Triku #67 – Non-Optimal Optimism

Headlights –

.

Optimism is:

Writing an end to darkness

When there’s no bright side

*

.

Un-Free Times –

.

When do poets sell?

When all my time’s spent writing

Or thinking I can’t

*

.

Scientific Optimism –

.

Nature’s law shared in

Physics and psychology

Is that all things bounce

~*~

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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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Shades

Another day, another time,
what will be tomorrows rhyme?
A rocky past has taken its toll.
Still wonderful people surround my soul.

My head still filled with uncertainty.
And always will be, but that’s just me.
My words fill pages no one will see.
Pencils get shorter, I wish they were free.

Another day, another time,
life’s hard while dreams sublime.
My heart’s thawing from winters long.
My eyes see both right and wrong.

Moments are filled with surprise.
Youth traded becoming wise.
To question this is wiser still.
The time will come, I know it will.

Another rainbow in shades of gray,
another time, another day!

~*~
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Morning Triku XXXIII

Tomorrow:

Reluctant slumber

Half-a-wake dreams, awaiting

Fantasies of day

~

 Boom:

Mornings Burst – Coffee

Pencils Sharp – Ready – Waiting

Haiku Explosion

~

Rhyme Time:

Constant mind of rhymes

Can be annoying, sometimes

But better than chimes

~*~

Done-kuing:

 One hundred haiku

As of today, thirty three

Tri’s and this single

***

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Morning Triku # 174 ~ Good Starts

No Down Side

Creativity’s
not about making things up,
it’s making things work.
~

Conundrum

If love made as much
as the time I spend writing,
I’d no time to write.
~

All Good

Love is beautiful,
when all else is not. Love is
all when from the heart.

~*~
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Writing Time

I woke this morning to a bright sunny day.
There’s a chill in the air, but that’s OK.
I had a good rest and that’s something new.
But when I check the news I’m sure to feel blue.
~
While writing this poem today I had a novel thought.
I’ll skip the news for now and feel much less fraught.
I’m not irresponsible because I really do care.
I just need some time to live without the fear.
~
My hair is turning gray, but that could be just age.
The time comes for all to turn another page.
A chapter’s surely ending and a new one will begin.
But will it be a tome or a volume very thin?
~
Time will surely pass as it always does.
Will we seek tomorrows or the way it was?
Our story’s now converged, edits now have past.
The final word is ours but we’d better make it fast.

~*~
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Ambiguity

Tomorrow’s poem might be my best.
It could be different from all the rest.
I have some ideas I’d like to share.
I’m just not sure if you’ll care.
~
The title for it I can’t decide.
But I’ll be searching far and wide.
I’m pretty sure it will rhyme.
As they do most of the time.
~
It may be funny with sad mixed in.
It could have numbers, they make me grin.
I have no end or much of a start.
When it’s done I hope it’s art.
~
Beginnings are somewhere, this might be it.
But if it’s not I don’t care one bit.
I’ll choose my words carefully, as you can see.
Cos I can’t be sure what’ll come out of me.
~
That sounds bad; maybe I’ll edit that out.
When something’s good there’s usually no doubt.
It’s time to go, but this chat’s been fun.
I’ll see you tomorrow with perhaps a better one.

~*~
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Future Reflections

Hot and cold,
feeling old,
awaiting the sunrise
to blind my eye
of visions deepest blue.
~
In a clockwise world
my thoughts drawn back,
tension’s wound
soon to crack,
options are but few.
~
Up and down
and round and round,
in the din
with none to win,
time dreamt through.
~
Words to mind
relief to find,
distraction consumes
on leaf life blooms,
unknown is the hue.
~
Buttons pushed
wishing rest,
weight is shared
solace guessed,
trying is the clue.
~
A cloud reflects
eyes shut detects
a glint of gold,
change I’m sold,
tomorrow’s now in view.
~
Touched a screen
hope was seen,
hearts of friends,
my future mends
with much thanks to you.

~*~
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