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Metaphor Inspiration Poems | Metaphor Poems About Inspiration

These Metaphor Inspiration poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Inspiration. These are the best examples of Metaphor Inspiration poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? | |

CREATIVE INSPIRATION

CREATIVE INSPIRATION Inspiration where do you go when you leave and your dry, barren riverbed causes blinding dust storms in my mind? Do you evaporate into mist, become a gray dense fog lying heavily in the air, intangible… floating like a cloud, ever changing shapes? Are you carried by the wind, held hostage to feed another storm when lightening strikes and your deluge once again swells the river to overflowing, racing free and wild, reaching out beyond all boundaries? If so, storm of inspiration please deliver unto me your monster category five hurricane © Sandra M. Haight 2014 All Rights Reserved ~First Place~ Contest: “I Do Not Know” Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich


Details | Sonnet | |

Gentle Summer Rain Art

Featuring:)  Giorgio Veneto

She writes about Fall's beauty in the rain 
The falling raindrops' dance ascribing thence 
Bespoken verse that lightens her refrain 
before the time they met - her steps commence. 

She listens to the soft and rhythmic thrum, 
her love turned to escape and cloudy string 
Where nimbus mistletoe fell, tears to become 
Their kiss of Autumn was symbolic ring. 

The first light cotton mists with summer rays 
While skyward cheerful laughs adorn the land, 
their ceremonial dance diffuses grays, 
affectionate embrace, where dreams expand. 

Upon September's sky the raindrops gleam 
With half of hidden Sun to laugh and beam.

Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN

--------- 
FRAGRANCE OF RAIN 
8/29/13 
Sonnet 
---------

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Details | Sonnet | |

SEE-SAWS


What playground does not hold the magic lure
Of see-saws firmly braced upon their stands?
What child resists excitement, felt for sure
In ups and downs: the hard thump when he lands
And surging thrill of bouncing up again—
To know that when he's hit that lowest low,
It's followed by a swing to new heights when
He'll know once more the joy of that plateau?

In contrast of the see-saw truth is found,
For truly, were it stable, it would bore
The simplest mind; for only from the ground
Does grandeur of the heavens make its score.
     And only in imbalances we feel
     The balance that keeps life on even keel.

© Sandra M. Haight 2014
    All Rights Reserved

Contest: Teeter-Totter: Balance the Load
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper - Judged 10/7/2014
~4th Place~


Details | Lyric | |

A poem for YOU

In this world of Uncertainties I’m the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That’s the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don’t expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. “Till death do us part” that’s what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don’t ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Money

Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.

From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're  seeing,
To everything out of sight.

The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.

The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred  ring.

Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.


Details | Free verse | |

Reality's Angel

I am Reality’s angel resting on the broad shoulders of discovery the truth feeds darkness and engulfs its target ideas and concepts in turn become meaningless to you there is a creator of all things He is just and patient many still have fallen into the masses of shadow wrapped in their own filthy idols of philosophy I have seen grown men fall like rose petals and weaklings rise into unjust leaders forever the follower of furtive evil dominating only to remain inferior the most important answers lie in the unseen regions where no sense can fully give assurance the mind that so many unreasonably twist and turn grows weary because of the distance it must take and truth be told the distance is not what frustrates it is knowing we are seeking something far that could very possibly not exist, that our minds can twist into theoretical, idealistic nonsense it is knowing all we really think we know is meaningless and yes—even a lie all that has been written thus far rests under my wings under the warmth in which you refuse to feel can you believe in me— though I am completely unseen? how much more difficult would it be to see Him?


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Hammer

Who can hear, the mornings call?
The dead dove's body, as it des fall.
Who can see through, the dead man's eyes?
As the burning sun, falls from the skies.

What once was new, has now become old,
What once was alive, has now become cold,
What you believed, was worth a lot,
Is burnt to ashes, in the melting pot.

Let's start again, I hear them say,
Let's start again, another day,
Let's make again, what we made before,
Spill more blood, on the kitchen floor,
Lift the cross, up on the hill,
Load the guns, to fight and kill.

Fight and slaughter, till there's non one left,
Till your mind is empty, your heart is deaf,
You thought that, I was a soldier too,
You thought that I said, I love you,
But I tell you now, and I tell it true,
The angles of heaven, and the angels of hell,
Are riding now, to the ring of deaths bell.

What you thought, was silver and gold,
Are ashes and dust, on the open road,
What you knew was good, what you knew was true,
The hot sun has dried, like the morning dew,
The very memory, of hope and despair,
Is lost in the hole, of your soul laid bare.

The empty hole, behind the clouds,
The music and the laughing crowds,
Are dead and gone, have faded away,
As a new sun rises, on a bright new day,
I tell you now, and I tell you true,
As the hammer of me hits the anvil of you


Details | Free verse | |

Fading Away To Nothing

I feel like I am fading away to nothing,
blending into an ordinary crowd,
where no one even notices me anymore.
Like an April snowflake, freely falling, landing on warm cement.
And, fading away with a short existence.

Or, an August raindrop in a passing storm,
dripping onto dry, weathered porch steps,
soaking into the wood grain, absorbing the very life of me.
Eventually leaving nothing behind.

Or like autumn leaves,
that once shined like gold in an October sunset,
now slowly withering and drifting to the ground
only to be raked aside,
or blown away to who knows where.

I feel like I am fading away to nothing.
A reflection in a mirror, that I can no longer recognize.
I don't want to be forgotten, especially to myself.
Like a lost spirit that no one can see, or even knows exists.
I'm dying out like the last spark of a flickering candle.
And evaporating into thin air like melting wax.

Like a piece of colored paper left in the sun's rays,
losing it's original brilliance, day by day,
the longer it is left there,
like no one cares about it anymore.
Or more like a bright helium balloon that escaped 
from a crying child's hand
drifting away and out of my reach, gone with the wind
And, disappearing into the clouds forever.
Fading away to nothing.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Door

Noah’s ark was real not a fiction
It had a door to escape God’s affliction
Noah delivered a warning message
But the folks mock their own presage

Men grew in sin and matured in transgression
And ignored Noah’s loving confession
The Door stood open a long time
Until time begin to climb

The Lord finally shut the Door
And the rain begin to pour
120 years of grace finally came to a halt
God administered judgment by default

The Door was a glorious type of Christ
He was the Lamb of God who was price
Jesus said “I am the Door of the sheep”
He is the only Door of that Great ship

Jesus is our Door of salvation
Wherein we enter and float as new creation
Behold He stands at your door this day and knock
Let Him in, you’ll find pasture as a partaker of His Holy flock

Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep- John 10:7


Details | Quatrain | |

Rainbow

Struggles and success, Sufferings and happiness, Dreams and Goals building to life; Like colours of the rainbow making light.
A blessed day for you my dear readers :) Cheer Up, God bless


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Game

My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played, 
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.

The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.

I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,

So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth, 
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.


Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.


I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.


Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.


The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.


The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.


So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.

That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.


The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.

more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Rhyme | |

Yung MCs

Hook: Here's the truth. We gon shine. Yung MCs and that's no lie. Coming up. To our door. Yea we got them flows galore. (Repeat x4)         Verse: Guess who just jumped on the phone. Riding to a new metronome. With his sickish flows. He's hysterical. So scientific, alchemical. And everyone knows I'm genuine. I'm stacking do like innuen. Time for you to tell all your friends that this yung mc is stepping in. The rap game poor. Needs a switch in economics. Cuz a lot of these suckas still talking bout the chronic. Youthful intelligence, call it Malcolm in the middle. You old brothers sit down. Try to learn to widdle. Cuz these yung MCs gonna leave you frikazied.  We a whole new breed. Give the people what they need.  We a brand new sound. From a dusty ghost town. Reborn from the ashes. It had burned to the ground. This yung brother yurns. For the world to hears his words. Because the rap nowadays is so absurd. But I assure you this. When I walk into the room. Put my mouth to the mic. And straight up kill it on a tune. I'll come with a style that'll match any vet. Rhymes way swift  5 blade like Gillette. The level I stand will never be met. Cuz you fly bird. Yet I fly jet. And honestly when we on the scene you hear the sickest similes. Slicing beats with symmetry that cause the haters ears to bleed. I take the light you try to keep. Cuz all your words are obsolete. It's night-night. Time to sleep. Close the crypt. Rest in peace.


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Blank verse | |

The Eye

The eye,a sign the 
unwise can't comprehend
  Forged from the world's 
origin,an 
illumination in darkened 
minds,for the 
enlightened ones like 
Leonardo da Vinci,Isaac 
Newton,John Milton....etc.
   The eye is a tree 
with many branches like 
Priory of Scion,Knight 
templars,I.O.G.T,United 
Nations,Masonic 
Lodge,Music industry, 
Politics,global economy, 
etc 
stretching beyond 
human imaginations-felt 
in all corners of earth.
  The world is clothed 
through wisdom from 
above.
   The eye,all seeing 
sign,an invincible 
emblem of power and 
riches to the lion hearted 
and loyal souls.
A seat of influence and 
fame.
  Creating the social order 
through men of power....
  Some see it as a 
curse,others a blessing.
  I feel it,the great eye is 
everywhere watching 
you!


Details | Sestina | |

Climbing ladders

Keeping your mind, healthy and open and taking that big step through the opportunity door; you’ll find going up, the career ladder, easy. It’s not always easy, to keep and open mind. Going straight up the ladder, opens many possibilities; open doors lay at the top, of the steps. You may not be taking steps; the climb up so many floors, is not easy. The illusive door of the human mind, is hard to keep open. Mind locks itself up. Go ahead, limb on up, take those steps; many opportunities will open and it will be easy, for your mind, to open its own door. When elevators close their doors and they glide slowly up; as you get off, mind your first foot step. You’ll find it very easy, any door to open. The world is full of, open opportunity doors. You’ll find an easy path, as you gradually rise up. No one wants to go, back a step; that thought alone, can open any clam shelled mind. Secure files open, with a code, quite easily. Through many a doorway; you’ll advance your steps. Climbing success’s ladder upwards; is simply an act, of the mind.


Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Rainbow

Running through the universe,
Looking for the light,
I found a broken rainbow,
Crying in the night.

I tried to glue it back again,
Fix it's bleeding heart,
But the circle had been broken,
Before it's song could start.

The push and pull of meaning,
Are tugging at my sleeve,
The million colours dancing,
In the cloth the weaver weaves.

Are burning in the darkness,
Burning in the night,
As the rainbow goes on crying,
Sinking out of sight.

And now I'm crying loneliness,
Crying on my knees,
The butterflies of emptiness,
Are dancing in the breeze.

Running through the universe,
Looking for your face,
I come back to the start again,
To find my  tail I chase.

I know I've found my destiny,
I know that it is true,
The beginning and the end of it,
Is where we'll all meet you.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Rhyme | |

Truth

Since time’s distant dawn 
Men have told lies 
Calling it truth 
The facts, patronized. 
But truth doth not jest 
It is what it is 
It’s the brim on a hat, 
It’s a bride’s wedding dress. 
  
Revered in our lives 
Honest men we respect 
For uttering truths 
We’ve all come to expect. 
Yet lies now made vogue 
Scatter truth like the birds 
And no handshake will do 
To shore up men’s words. 
  
So do well to respect 
The integrity of sleuth 
It pinpoints all lies 
Shines light on untruth. 
Just recall the pure facts 
As they actually occurred
Lies have no one's back 
In the end only truth 
Be remembered.

© Michael Wegman, 2014


Details | Free verse | |

Cookies-Food For Thought

Cookies -
Why can’t I have the chocolate one
I want more
She took my cookie
Hers is bigger than mine
I want to trade
That’s not fair

Cookies +
Thank you for the cookie
I love you
Thanks for all you do for me
I am satisfied
This is good
I am loved
Written By  Deborah Finneran :)  2013


Details | Rhyme | |

EN ROUTE TO A BLESSING

TO MOVE FORWARD
TO MOTIVATE OTHERS
FOR EMPOWERMENT VIA NON-PROFIT
TO ACHIEVE WHAT HAS BEEN SAID TO BE IMPOSSIBLE!

Is there a greater focus to determine a greater faith?
Why ask, if you are living the best way?

TO STEP-TO-THE CAUSE
TO BE A POLITICAL POWERHOUSE
TO PROVIDE MOTIVATION
TO INSPIRE A NATION

What is your focus to be?
I ask because a destiny is perceived.

TO BE TO DO
TO LOVE TO LIVE
TO QUEST TO ACHIEVE
TO SEEK TO DEFINE
TO FIND TO SEEK OUT
TO ESTABLISH TO ASCERTAIN

What questions have you not ask?
Bringing forth this knowledge is to introspect.
________________________________________|
PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 15, 2014!


Details | Free verse | |

Tangible Dreams

In the midst of darkness descending 
above me, 
Stillness seems to overtake sound, 
Allowing moments for deep thought 
in this mirror of solitude.

I tend to reminisce on those dreams I 
grab from the photogenic events of 
the past.

Once touched, I’m taken back by the 
moments that can’t be replaced. 

So during this moment of tranquility; 
I pray no external force interrupts 
this, 
The calm waters in my mind. 

Lucky for me, it’s a reoccurring dream; 
And as vivid as these fantasies are, 
None compare to the peaceful illusions 
of family gatherings. 

It was only yesterday, when I illustrated thoughts 
of a child, 
Always curious of that deep ocean floor, 
Where familiar kin paint their residence ; 
I was an eyewitness to many overlooked 
areas within my family’s ocean. 

Yet with many pieces missing as a result of 
loved ones ascending to a higher cause, 
This puzzle remains incomplete until that 
last tomorrow.

However in these possible moments 
of delusion; 
I’m a child again touching the fabric 
of my influential past.

As I continue this unforgettable daydream,
I ask again for no interruption; 
For with every reminiscent moment, 
I know of myself better and what I 
could be in a tangible future. 


Details | Free verse | |

The Glass Goddess

All around me
Great cities made of sand.
Green sky scrapers poke through the ground 
To thrive in life’s strict conditions
And melt away with the tide…

Great houses made of cards
Form lines, and tightrope walk existence,
Knowing that any moment, the wrong brick may fall
And buckle our world to its knees
As Mother Earth shouts Jenga! from the sidelines.

So while were here
We dance with the Glass Goddess 
Poised miles above reality,
Leaping over the heavens on our domino stilts-

We floor it in the sky
Living death in the fast lane, 
Seizing the day
Because any moment 
We could disappear 
Into



Jacob Reinhardt	
10/15/2013



Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Ballad | |

A lesson from the Buddha

 A Lesson From the Buddha

The Buddha had been getting round
And listening to the crowd.
He’d often sat there silently
And heard them moan so loud
About their own sad burdens
And all the hurt they’d had.
So he thought up a little plan
That didn’t seem half bad.

He called the crowd together
Said “listen here you guys
I’ve been thinking for a great long while
And I have thought it wise
To grow a special tree for you
And here it lies before you
Now listen well to what I say
I’ll tell you what to do”

He said “this tree before you
It’s to hang your troubles on
Each one of you must go to it
And your troubles will be gone
As you hang them on it’s many branches
Then what you’ll need to do
Is take yourself some others burdens
And make them part of you”

The people thought that this was cool
It seemed a grand old way
To rid themselves of all their burdens
It was a happy day!
As each smiling so broadly
Placed there burdens on the tree
Then they thought for just a while
And they began to see.

As each the truth did hit them
More restless did they get
At least they knew their burdens
So each with no regrets
Did race back to that trouble tree
To grab what they had hung there
The Buddha smiled good humoredly
He had made them all aware.

29 July 2013 @ 1805hrs.


Details | Free verse | |

Gratefulness

To be absolutely certain To be firmly convicted in principle and belief Is the scariest feeling of all But, like all feelings, it never lasts The conviction stays, but the mind wanders Deep into the zones of ostensible comfort Where it rests merely to frenzy Into the streets of opposition Straight into the absolute wrong But the feeling never lasts It returns to the minute certainty The mind becomes determined in the conviction it has embraced And the best feeling rises above the initial fear: Gratefulness
6-29-13


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Silent Lamb

The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.

What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.

The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.

The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.

The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.

What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.

more of my poems at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Free verse | |

Heartbreak

He wants to say "I love you,"
But keeps it to "Goodnight."
Because love would mean some falling,
and she's afraid of heights.

T.K


Details | Couplet | |

The prison of the keys

And now I've lost my papers,
My passport and my wife,
The very essence of
My identity and life.

My bank account is empty,
My cloths and garments sold,
My skin and bones are ashes,
Spread thin on the open road.

My old car's broken down,
No wheels to touch the floor,
The motor been dismantled,
Stripped clean down to the core.

The bailiffs and the policemen,
Have emptied my abode,
The promises I made you,
Have been auctioned out and sold.

The love I hold within me,
Is all that I now have left,
The rest is bleak illusion,
The bind man and the deaf.

The imaginary people ,
I thought were my friends,
Have left the scene forever,
As the road of life does bend.

And now I stand alone,
Upon this lonely hill,
I gaze upon the meanings,
The years have silently killed.

In the roaring storms of thunder,
In the lightning in the night,
In the whispering of the children,
In the white doves lonely flight.

In the dust of many ages,
That has settled on my soul,
In the ashes of my humanity,
That has filled my begging bowl.

The ancient breeze is blowing,
Calling me to my knees,
To behold the light within me,
In the prison of the keys.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | ABC | |

Rain For Tears

Thank you for crying for me today

My tears are sometimes an expression 
of the powerlessness I feel

Through my tears I release my sadness, my fears
and find answers

I am all thought out
Too tired to cry the hard tears
or softly weep myself to sleep
so thank you for crying for me today

You pound hard into the earth 
As though mixing an antidote of gladness 
to overcome my sadness 

I hear you tapping rhythmically and methodically against my windowpane 
message in code "Don't worry", "Don't worry"  you say

You rain softly as my sadness and fears fade
And I begin to find new meaning


Details | Rhyme | |

Shimmering Darkness

She woke up everyday 
to the beckoning of death's toll. 
But decided to embrace life, 
pulling herself from the darkened hole. 

With a new brightness in her eyes, 
she lived life as partially buried gold. 
Never afraid of the darkness, 
or what the future may hold. 

Shimmering beneath the dirt, 
her beauty shall now unfold. 
True legacy lies hidden to reign, 
for a prodigy has risen from bitter cold. 

One example of grace goes far, 
farther then any story ever told. 
With strength that comes from deep within, 
that's been held from days of old. 

Among the majority she lived, 
witnessing atrocities flare. 
From her soul she would always give, 
though no one seemed to care. 

As the bells of sadness began to ring, 
she would rise above the gloom. 
Out of darkness and despair she would sing, 
with a melody that filled the room. 

The tears that had fallen proved as strength, 
to her ever-impending light. 
Onward traveling to any length, 
for what she believed was right. 

When darkened paths shimmer, 
despite the pangs of apathy, 
through life she will always glimmer, 
no matter what the tragedy.


-Collab with Dan Kearley! You're the best, Dan!


Details | Quatrain | |

The Pen

The pen's a sword for carving poems.
A wand for measuring beats.
A whip to keep the rhythm
and a stick to tap the tweets.

It's silent to the ear-drums
when heard inside the head.
Words firmer than my chin bone
in notes from what seems dead.

It points to things I question
and scribbles errors I make.
And when it writes some new stuff
forgives me my mistake.

At rest upon my paper
it signals that I'm done.
And when I go to grab it
I'll click it just for fun.


Details | Free verse | |

You Are Rich

Festered lament maddens me
Why must the despair of my heart’s desire
Truly enlighten me? 
I rested among the sick and lame
And found myself no different from the rest
For a troubled mind holds endless poverty
Penniless regret marks as a sickness no doctor can prescribe
For the bottles of balm are empty
And medicinal hope grows angry
I derived my madness from creativity
Revealing the remains of my humanity
‘Cool off, child’, I heard a soft voice whisper
But can’t you see I live off the flame?
It asks for no nickel or dime!
But it seeks to destroy all the same
The small voice returns at times
And often my heart listens
But we all listen
And only believe in the inevitability of pain 
I speak of the majority
Not of you
For you are blessed and beyond disgrace
You have a life—a beautiful face

And most of all, you are rich
With attributes I can only dream of 

You are rich with life and purpose
Holding inscrutabilities I can only wish to understand
You lift me without touch or care
Disposing me from your treasures
Because though you meant no harm, 
You are rich with blessing
And must remove all possible threats
So my festered lament
Remains an enlightenment

I can say I am rich in poverty
But you are forever rich
In Mystery

What hurts the most is knowing
I may be wrong about you
For you are so obscure in this mind
And as empty as I am I wish to be filled
In your richness
But we all are filled to the brim in the end
And sometimes I cannot distinguish the good from the bad
There is nothing I wish to discard
So I hoard in constant deficiency and despair  
And I hoard the idea that you are beyond compare

That you are rich
And always will be richer
Than me—or he


Details | Free verse | |

Black Ink

My black pen.
The way you flow,
And tell my tale.
You spill my thoughts,
And always prevail.
My soul bleeds out,
Through your black ink..
Everytime that my thoughts,
Had started to sink.
You let me drain my pain out,
In smooth cursive letters..
And I smile,
As your black ink, stains..
My newly purchased,
Lined white paper.
You relieve me,
As you leave a trail of my angst.
Thank you black pen..
For being my strength.


Details | Free verse | |

Obscure

Literature is herself a clown.
Without this coming first,
no great art is made
except glooms of queer authors
peddling like traders of a trade.
 The second needed
is the dying of the tedious
sigh,
the writer must drown in happiness
and be filled in joy.
What covers will stay
and what empties will become
an empty road stand,
no beauty or use per say.
And last,the writer needs to master
the ideas of the whirling clock,
the deep jokes in ordinary lines,
and the skills of hung
heads,swinging apart their blood;
executed for what is done,
the writer executes the book
and the book,the image stays.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Sometimes

Sometimes there is silence,
Sometimes there are words,
Sometimes there is meaning,
Sometimes it's absurd.
Sometimes you are near me,
Sometimes you are far,
Sometimes there is darkness,
Sometimes guided by a star.
Sometimes we are up and 
Sometimes we are down,
Sometimes we are slaves,
That wear a holy crown.
Sometimes we are arrogant,
Sometimes we are proud,
Sometimes we are someone,
Lost in the faceless crowd.
Sometimes we are rich and 
Sometimes we are poor,
Sometimes we are angels,
Scratching at the door.
Sometimes I'm living and 
Sometimes I am dead,
Sometimes there is no thoughts
Turning in my head.
Sometimes looking forwards,
Sometimes looking back,
The circle still unbroken,
The train still on the track.
Sometimes we are caught and
Sometimes we are free,
But we always come back praying,
Under this olive tree.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Free verse | |

Patience

As my heart beats simultaneously to the ticking of the eternal clock,
I sit and ponder on what life has for me to come.
As life goes on around me,
as my friends go on with lives meant to be lived,
and as my brothers find lovely girls to bring home to Mom;
I sit and ponder, when? When is it going to be my time to show love?!
When am I going to be able to open up emotionally to my special one,
and where am I going to find her?

Envy takes a toll on my soul,
as my heart wants to love and be loved,
I tear it down with self-pity and hate.
Jealousy's green flows through my veins,
when I see my friend hugging and kissing his girl,
and when my brother talks of his future wife,
I am excited as ever could be,
but something deep in my chambered heart
wants to break out with force and scream!

...Jealousy halts the clock and pushes it back,
Patience pushes the clock forward, making time come faster,
and that moment when you least expect it,
the love of your life comes out of nowhere
and holds you and kisses you and makes you laugh and smile.
Patience, such a word with such a powerful meaning to life.
Patience is key,
with no patience in this world, we'd all kill ourselves
and we'd all lose our minds,
falling in love with hearts that never stood a chance with you.
If you want love, and be loved,
open your heart,
don't give away your heart,
but give enough to people, so they see you in a different light,
and open new ideas of your character.
You never know who is around the corner,
so enjoy life,
and be patient,
and time will come soon enough
and you'll smile and thank the heavens,
but for now, just relax and enjoy life.

.2.1.2014.


Details | Rhyme | |

Live To Be Timeless

They say that life is short

With different lengths for everyone 

Some are gone before they start living

And some before they are done


Some live for the day, Some live for the month

Some live to be timeless, and second to none


With a path on each side

Motionless at a crossroads

Not knowing which step

Would lessen the load


Do it tomorrow

Leave it til later

Put it off for now

The stalling gets greater


Some live for the day, Some live for the month

Some live to be timeless, and second to none


How can I live

Without having regret

And be content

On the day I meet death


Tomorrows troubles 

Still far away

Takes away my happiness

And my smiles for today


Some live for the day, Some live for the month

Some live to be timeless, and second to none


Plans that are large

The height of one's dreams

Could distance you from the now

Then the now can't be seen


The night follows the day

As the day follows the night

Try and live in each

Of the moments in sight


Some live for the day, Some live for the month

Some live to be timeless, and second to none


I may be taken tomorrow 

My life could disappear

Not afraid of tomorrow

I'll handle it when it's here


But today I'm alive

And I've overcome my fears

And I'll reach for that star

Every day of all my years


Some live for the day, Some live for the month

Some live to be timeless, and second to none


Details | Haiku | |

When her harp sings a minimalistic symphony

doughty fingers dance
strumming intense soft and strong 
on thin steel harp-strings

spring breezes' equal
myriad strings resonate
mesmerizing piece

floating on sound waves
thoughts wandering far away
heart and soul travel

oak butterflies soar
from strong transparent wired strings 
and stroking trumpets

life's rhythm vanishes
breath and heartbeat adopted
by gently touched strings

tantalizing clouds
enchanting passionate sounds
dictating life's rhythms

through alluring notes
I nestle from head to toe
in soft cushioned chairs

from intimate depths 
muted and exuberant 
gusts of warm heartbeats

heartstrings in music
angelic and hypnotic 
crystalline oak sounds

PS.
Harp player Anne Vanschothorst just does it... with her music... as described in this poem.  

Under "About this poem" two of my favorite pieces of her and her piece for harp based on my poem "A whiter shade of blue"


Details | Sonnet | |

Newspaper-boy's special report

all year long six days a week
delivering his morningpapers
printed in big bold black
06.30 he always causes a creak

before dawn starting  his triple-round
when closing soft but firm the rickety fence
today bringing along so much more
being the messenger of such a different sound

during this daybreak-bike-ride
he noticed he'd never seen before
the presence of a surprising muse
while the moon was shining incredibly bright light 

in the dark moonlight's clearest arrow
on the streets his own moving shadow 

© Ellie Daphne

PS.

A tribute to all newspaper deliverers and one  in particular


Details | ABC | |

Metepora

What lies beneath 
The flooding drains
A spiders web
Spawned of rustic chains
If you ask me how I am 
I'll reply that I'm ok
Hiding behind this mask
As I resume to face this day
Then theres the sights
A synonym of what I cannot find in you
But I have found
Sometimes hunger is the only kind of food
Have I lost my Faith?
Its something that I could never see
Then theres your eyes
Still falling away from me
But if I was a better man
Would your rivers run deep into outer space
While all along your insisting
That we are both two worlds away 
Behold this longer list of denials
And uncertain hope
Reflecting fears of affection
And you still keep your eyes closed 
Then by my own admissions
My heart has grown from cold to colder
And by my own submissions
Losing your love has bled me sober


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Paint the Permanent

I stand before the canvas of my life
with the arsenal of brushes I've been armed with
choosing the paints with which I'll work

My will is to paint the permanent
No watercolors that can wash
My strokes will stain the canvas true

In my art studio my brushes fire
Salvos of sultry reds
Volleys of vivacious violets

But I don't always paint alone
Others there are that share the studio
And though our canvases won't always hang together
A small army of artists are we

Who paint our lives with care
For all the world to see
The hues we use only we may choose
Brazen and bold, subtle, or stark
Soldiers of our arts
Aiming and striking and painting our hearts out
Until we die
And go to the Gallery

But as for me
I stand before the canvas of my life
And the brush is in my hand


Details | Free verse | |

I'm Back

Hey, did you hear the sounds of a sorrowed heart
slowly thumping away in the evening sunsets?
There he is, baby, the man they call;
"The Blue Poet"
there he is in the flesh
with a book of poems in his hand,
look at the whores and the smiles turn to him
and say to him, "Where have you been?"
They look at him and he looks at us.
He sits at his desk,
he lits a cigarette and smokes.
He opens the big book of poetry that he had in his hand
and started to read.
There was a smile on his face,
reading to all of us;
as we sat around his greatness and glory
and we listened to his great poetry.
He looked at us through the dark
and with eyes a blazed and a smile so bright
he opened his mouth and out came the words of
a sorrowed heart and a master at his finest hour,
and he said in a calm voice;
"I'm Back, baby!"
And we all cheered,
and he smiled and drank his glass of red wine
and smoked his cigarette
He leaned back in his chair and watched us all
stand and cheer.
If you looked closely,
you could see a single tear form in his eye
and roll down his rough cheek.
The Blue Poet was back,
and this time he stayed.

-10/23/2013-

A dedication to myself. I am sorry to all my fellow fans and followers and poets and poetesses, I had left you all without a trace of ever returning, but now I am back and here to stay!


Details | Rhyme | |

The Bridged Breach

A demised man without
Jesus is dead.
So also living soul without
Jesus.
Jesus manifested
for purposes,
What purposes?
The hopeless.                 
to receive hope,
To set the captives free,
Destroying forces 
Of darkness.
With thirty pieces;he
Manifested.
Dark forces defeated.
Our sins forgiven,sure
Access to the father.
Breach in Adamic time,
Put in oblivion by lasting
Bridge-
access granted.
His love is lasting.
The death of Jesus!
Lo He has resurrected!
He lives!


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Signs

The signs are here, for all to see,
The thunder clouds, the dying tree.
The shining lights, that draw you near,
Loud heavy music, in your ear.

By word of mouth, or through cyber space,
The hidden pictures, of your face,
The northern lights, are dancing south,
The rumours you hear, by word of mouth.

The sign are falling, from the sky,
Raining stars, on the passers by,
While the battle rages, on underground,
The innocent dying, without a sound.

The cries of heaven, the screams in hell,
That no one hears, down in this well,
The terrible beauty, the open wound,
The innocent babies, in open tombs.
For all to see, for all to hear,
The blind man's painting, the deaf man's ear.

The birds are falling, the fishes drowned,
What once was up, has now become down,
The tender and loving, an empty shell,
The gross and the ugly, now the rallying bell.

The signs are here, for all to see,
Titanic sinking, on a blood red sea.

More poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Free verse | |

Conflicted or star crossed lovers

Not a day goes by I don't think of you
you have permeated my fortress and walk freely in all its rooms
(examining it's furnishings)
how did I allow you entry without the
usual search scan and seizure ?
I'ts like a foreign substance and all
my antibodies are seeking to eradicate
your presence (anti-christs)
My mind and heart find your entrance exhilarating 
like ecstasy ( a neurologically happy drug ,
which by the way I've never imbibed in but the
other one I'm only slightly familiar with)
My body wants to throw you off like some
intruder to the death it lies in bondaged slavery of.
I finally understand the WAR.
I want to isolate this substance and imbibe at will
or as often as I desire.
There's no corner on the market for this substance,
you can only get this by freely accepting it as your 
own life blood , the loss of which kills us , but it's
flow is what keeps us alive.
I desire to lay in it's bliss
like basking in a warm sun's rays
unfortunately I burn easily , so I usually limit 
my exposure to substances I feel may do me damage.
But OH , HOW GOOD this FEELS , as though I should
have been born to this naturally .
But NO , love is not the natural substance of the world
in it's battlements and fortresses erected by men and
so thoroughly indoctrinated into his very being .
I just want to bottle this and share it with everyone.
But everyone "knows" every really really great substance
wears off and kicking the habit is way way painful .
But I want to suck this up and live in it , to have the heat
of it never dim , until it is an all consuming fire that lights
everything in it's sphere . Yes LOVE JUNKIE , child of God
a shameless addict to truth about the paths people choose
to "lose" themselves on . 
I've been like a bloodhound sniffing out every trail looking
for this substance the one that transforms you into fully
brilliantly vibrantly alive , and to roll in it until every fiber
of my being is saturated with it's fragrance.
The factory that manufactures this is built within , 
and I want unlimited access  , but my own body has
set up perimeters and walls to fence off my full access 
to my own God given life source ..(the curse)
You can only have full admittance when you can use
it's power to give life and not destroy others , to be 
able to manage it usefully for the benefit of all.
But I'm a natural indulgent in what feels good , 
substances always on the intake , seeking to have a 
balm that shields me from being abused or seeing 
my own abuses of Life. My ability to utilize a substance
so powerful is limited by my training , my will and my
exposure to everything that seeks to sell it on the open
market like a thrill seeker , or cheap whore who can be
had for a bouquet and dinner , which is quickly consumed
in one night and disappears tomorrow . Nothing that the
world offers can even slightly imitate the magnitude and 
power residing where Love dwells . When you've been 
allowed to taste its manna , the desire for a plateful
is now not even enough but the drive to constant partaking
of its presence is now an all consuming fire and I am 
driven to sign up for the lifetime plan . For better is a life
that feeds on love daily , than to choke and suffocate on
the bowls of hatred served up daily in the worlds menu.
I have relished the view from opposite sides of the room ,
when you're ready  for the permanent plan you will 
have to crossover to the other side . I know you read me,
like the good book , and when you understand you can
hide it from the world , but not from me , or yourself .
We want full access to the wellspring of life and love , I'm
willing to share the source , but it's a limited partnership (MLP)
on a lifetime plan , but it's riches are infinite and can only
be provided by the source. If you're willing to crossover , 
I'll allow you re-entry and full access ... Love  


COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Details | Verse | |

SURVIVOR, THAT I WILL BE

SURVIVOR, I WILL BE

Stripped me down from my clothes..
Yell at me until your throat get sore..
Speak to me with vile words..
Walk and talk to me like I am nothing...

Yes, It will hurt and pain me..
Probably, It may even make me cry..
Probably, It make me even on bended knees..
Probably, It will cause me loss of appetite and sleeplessness..

But, tell you what....

You can never take what I have..
You can never shove off that smile...
You can never erase the overwhelming love that's within me...
You can never make me fall...

I will rise up: " humbled not proud"
I will stand up: "learned not ignorant"..
I will smile even with tears: "joys not of hurts"
I will shout: "victory not of failures"...

By: olive_eloi
10/01/2013
1:08am

---------------


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Transformation

Life escapes me; 
Moving beyond my control;
My heart broken
     in a million tiny pieces;
The wounds are deep;
Evading every part of me …

But, Love begins a healing process
Deep within my cocoon
Gently soothing, healing deeply
     in the painful places …
Will I trust?


Details | Free verse | |

Portrait of the Soul

The blank canvas lies before me,
as I pondered how to begin.
What should I start with?
Start with drawing a picture,
perhaps add some color to the borders?

The more my mind wondered,
it makes it hard to describe
how to create a masterpiece
that represents my well-being.

Fear eludes my judgement,
judgement eludes my fear.
Will I love or despise it?
What will others think?

The canvas of my heart
Stares me right in the eyes,
Looking deep within my soul
Spoke softly to me as she said,
"Just let it come and leave fear behind."

I slowly picked up my paintbrush,
Dipped it in one of the buckets
Then I began to stroke against the canvas
Waves of blue appeared like ocean waves.

When I finished with the waves,
I continued forth with another color
My mind focused on the canvas
While my hand continued to move,
as more colors appeared before me.

Before I knew it
I stared at the canvas
No longer white as snow
It was full of beauty.

The calm ocean
Bright sun above
Clear blue sky
Whimsical clouds shift.

The beauty of the land 
That nestled at the end
With a kingdom resting within
Where lovely flora surround it so.

Canvas once blank
Now full of life
Beauty and grace
The art of one's soul
That came from within.


Details | Free verse | |

OUR STATES OUR PEOPLE

I am tired of being *uc* by people that have lost their guts.
Ain’t in nothing but ducky tubs washing their butts.
Plus, the earth is barren.
The trees are sticks without leaves.
This is because the Lord ain’t sending any sunshine not pleased.
Mankind lost their minds long-ago.
The unknown has contemplated.
Then they wash their clothes in unclean water.
However, their mentality knows nothing of this.

Why do we live in two mediums?

The political picture is our leaders are deceiving us.
We must stand our ground in this Powerhouse.
If we do not, we will suffer from capitalism.
The antidote states that experience is the best teacher.
If we don’t deploy advocacy, this democracy will become rancor.
We are the people.
Therefore, we are what have construct.
Political activism is fostered.
Political asylum is festered.
This is our nation; therefore, let us augment the strength we have.
The closing remark is if we don’t, no one will.
__________________________________________/
Penned on May 14, 2014!


Details | Free verse | |

The blood you were given

Never throw punches at the rain,
don’t doubt the pain of the sane,
nor the deranged.
 
Never toss change into a fountain,
and hope for a wish that you haven’t 
earned just because you have a 
nickel to spare.
 
Never dream without company,
lies are most easily revealed with
another set of eyes.
 
Never rise out of bed,
without thinking of the consequences
of getting out of your own head.
 
Don’t fret about the chaos,
let it flow past your bones
and sizzle at your feet.
 
You are alive,
now prove it to the world
before you become a memory.
 
Make sure that you raged,
that you were boundless.
 
Become not just a memory;
become a living legacy.
 
This is your story.
 
Write it in the blood 
you were given.
 
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Silver Tongue

His fingers left blood on the strings 

but, come time to walk away he hadn’t really learned anything.

Course and dried brushes sit atop the rubbish,

His mind held a perfection too delicate for his clumsy hands to create.

He opened his mouth to sing like a jay but, instead of notes it was rust that fell out. Part of the wear and tear of early adulthood.

But then, this same boy picked up a pen and found some paper. The pen in his hand felt as natural his own bones and he began to write.

He wrote every tear

He scribed every star

He built towers from mountains with every line

High enough that the angel’s just might hear them.

He made pages for chapters of his life that could make those seraphim weep sapphire tears.

He could write the wind blowing across the nape of your neck in Autumn

And make you feel the chill on your skin.

He could articulate the sad beauty of a lover’s quarrel that ends in tears

If they cry, it makes it all more real.

He documents the history of a war inside himself that will never end.

The loss and the gain,

But not those of monetary nature.

When life begins to scream around him

All he must do to silence it is to put it in a stanza.

The boy’s tongue can pave the way for good intentions, and we all know those can fall South. He finds strength. And with this Strength a power.

Finally the boy knew his gift. But how is he meant to use it and who will truly listen to the personal strands of his soul he ties together with punctuation?

And now that he has tasted the pleasure of his power, will that be enough?


Details | Free verse | |

Tree Houses and Trigger Fingers

I wish I could take this noose from my tongue.
It doesn’t seem to work against the honesty of silver anyway. 
I wish I could hang it over the neck of my thoughts and pull it tighter every time they try to choke me with guilt or pessimism.

Well versed in the words it takes to build things up. My lips and sounds paint pictures and build grand cities where the price would be too high but, people would still pay to live there.

Better versed am I in the words that call for demolition. I need not even speak them before, I set all the beauty ablaze and cast those cities to rubble. All the people paying too much can flee or stay but, as the founder and captain I am charged with going down with my ship.

If I could just speak a balance.
Articulate a safe place. 
A perfectly leveled tree house with room for one or two.

Lately though, my words and thoughts shake and stutter. 
Trip over themselves like my hands reaching for a pen or a pill bottle.
At least that bottle is half way full, I guess.

In love with the thought of the very idea.
I see now, with no lenses, softening my harsh reality.
I must once more, try to focus on myself. 
Love myself and prove it. 
Reach for the things I need with conviction and not the unsure hands of a child, I've been sporting so well.

I can find a meadow.
No path required.
I will not rest there, I promise but, I may take in the scenery along the way. 
I need no hand to hold my own in respective appreciation.
I can see the wonder painted even brighter when it burns with a pang of solidarity.

I will work my words,
My tired feet,
My heavy lungs,
My heart with dented armor.
I will train my hands steady.

And this time when I put something in my sights, I won’t have to hesitate before I pull the trigger, painting the walls and ground with my red victory. 

A flower may yet hold promise,
Even in the wrong climate but first, the seed must be planted. Will it bloom?
We are getting ahead of ourselves.

Clear the board and start again.


Details | Free verse | |

Hurricane LOVE


Moving so swiftly to hatred's shore,

Trees of prejudice uprooted,

By winds of kindness from above,

Cruel structures of bigotry,

Leveled to their floors,

Evil swept away,

By pure waves of goodness,

Aggression disappears,

In this storm's peaceful eye,

Driving out forever,

Depression's clouds of darkness,

Sadness blown from its moorings,

Never again to make one cry,

Tyranny loses its hold,

From one powerful gust,

Humankind's greed washed out to sea,

By the tides known as sharing,

Finally,

As she passes through,

Love replaces fear with breezes of trust,

Leaving gently in her wake,

A land of true compassion and caring.

© Copyright 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

 


Details | Free verse | |

Persona

We all wear a mask
No matter how we shape or mold it
It stays the same way even with a slight change
For the mask is a part of us
Just as we are part of the mask

When we hide a hidden side
Deep within our hearts
It becomes a shadow
Something we try to deny
Something to forget

But it always comes back to haunt us
Trying to engulf us in its darkness
To show others what their really like
As they keep denying it gets stronger
Shifting and molding into something terrifying

The shadow becomes a beast
A monster of our dark side
Because we've denied it
For thinking it isn't a part of us
But it is a part of us
Like we are a part of it

The only way to combat it
Is to accept it as it is
For that shadow is you
You are the shadow
Your persona that is in your heart

Don't be afraid
Just face it
Show no fear
Accept it

The shadow is you
You are the shadow
You wear the mask
Wearing the mark
On your heart

Once you accept it
It becomes a great ally
A powerful persona
Right by your side
Always there to help you
When things get tough

Most important of all
Never forget the friends
That help you through
The hard times you face
For they will help you

They are the light in your darkness
A shining glow at the end of the tunnel
A hand extended out to grab you
If you are to fall 
They will be there for you

We must learn to accept ourselves
For who we are
Hiding our other selves
Will just make problems grow

Just be yourself
Be proud of who you are
As you wear the mask
Keeping your head up
With full confidence

Your persona is a special one
Never forget that
It is your ally
Your friend
Your other half

Your shadow
Most of all
Your mask
Its your persona
Be proud of it
As it is proud of you
To accept it as it is


Details | Free verse | |

Art

The blush of breath against creation;
wind born from the mouth of perception
sending life into the veins of what has been struck.
Beauty in the shade of compassion,
thriving in a glade of torment.
Reckoning splattered upon a blank
canvas whispering “I need purpose”. 
Deception bathed in guilt,
letting forgiveness blot the stains 
of regret from the very same easel.
Art is condemnation and exaltation
in chaotic synchronicity.
Harnessed disarray,
profound confusion.
Oxymoronic clarity.
Bloody peace,
screaming silence.
Conceptual destruction,
and subtle suggestion.
Art studied you,
before you pondered before it.
Felt the gush,
while you blinked..
Craved while you fed
 and suffered for your stare.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Quatrain | |

Beyond Fences

If the course of my life was determined
By every choice that I make,
It just might suffice to be wary
Of whatever path that I take.
I already know that great power
Has brought many great men to fall.
Would it be wise then to find peace
While not having power at all?

If the joys in my life were dependent
On what side of the fence that I stand,
Maybe I should just leave the fields
And find for myself a new land.
For I know that direction is blessing;
It is wise to stay on the slow track,
And shooters will target the chief men
While sparing the slaves in the back.

Beyond the fences is where I stand
Beyond the reach of human hands.


Details | Ekphrasis (Ecphrasis) | |

Cathartic Evolution

The consummation of this 
                                        escape
blossoms into unhindered perception;
Naked, amenable gushes of slated clarity
wrack the the bounds of form;
born to change
                         the metamorphosis of itself
and evolve into the beauty seen
by 
            your eyes. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | I do not know? | |

Road Trip

...Just because the road got a little bumpy, 
That didn't mean I was going to pull over, 
                 get out, 
and sit on the side of the road and give up. 
                                            I kept going. 
And at the end of the road, there was a dead end sign... 
                 but did that stop me? 
                           No. 
I parked the car, 
     got out, 
and continued on foot. 
Eventually I came to the brink of a huge mountain 
and looked up 
and thought it was impossible to climb. 
           But did that stop me? 
                       No. 
I tried anyway and started climbing. 
Once I got to the top, 
I turned around and looked over the mountain 
and I could see the smooth road 
     that turned into bumpy gravel 
          that came to a dead end 
               that came to the bottom of this mountain... 
everything that has tried to stop me. 
And suddenly, I realized 
that I now stood higher... 
       above it all... 
and now look how little it looks...


Details | Free verse | |

District 13 Revolution

Fireworks slide down the back of my tongue

Some went north to imitate stars, 

knowing all to well they wouldn’t even make it to the stratosphere

A fire can’t breathe with no air

Ask that man in the alley why he has to shoot black skies into his veins to see them.

You probably have more in common than you might think.

Satellite transmissions making waves like the oceans they cover

Healthy food is expensive, while poison is damn near free!

There is a storm coming

Grab your blankets and I will tell you how it ends with a new beginning.


Details | I do not know? | |

men are becoming women

The tire was flat 
Imagine that 
What should we do 
Call AAA 
was all he could say 

Afraid to break out a jack 
did not want his fingers black 
He said "I pay them top dollar" 
I was not impressed 
He did not know how, I guessed 

Where are all the real men 
I do not want Barbies Ken 
A strong secure man is what I need 
That holds me tight in his arms 
and sets off alarms 

A man that is not PC 
Speaks fluently 
Not a limp biscuit 
Firm handle on my rear 
Kisses that get me in gear


Details | Ballade | |

Just like the Ouroboro

Just like the Ouroboro

Just like the Ouroboro
We swallow our own tails
The I, it tries to eat the me
We’re not living in the now
Consciousness, and nature
The coin it has two sides
Yet they are both part of the whole
This cannot be denied.

We all throw nature to the wind
We think we’re separate
So we destroy this planet Earth
To be fools, is this our fate?
We humans, we are nature too
Why do we miss this truth?
As we destroy our planet earth
From nature stand aloof

So like the Ouraboro
We try to eat our tails
We want control, but when we try
Each time we’re doomed to fail
Cause life is transformation
Nothing does stand still
Yet still we try to eat our tails
And I guess we always will

The Ouroboro in Mythology is the misguided snake, who tries to eat his own tail….Peter


Details | Haiku | |

the wake

sometimes words blur in
motionless wonder and I 
am left in the wake.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Ecliptic Silence

Hopeful but its so mundane
Filling the hollowness with more empty pleasure
But it takes my hand and and walks me through this withering decay
Into the ecliptic silence, 
Self medicated diluted dreams
A mixture of over stimulation and desensitizing me 
Somewhere between ominous and beautiful
Letting the darkness consume my conscious brain
Until the sun can realign and pulls me back into this day
To overcome this strange numbness 
Of self inflicted shadowing
Butterflies once warmed me up inside until I pulled off all their wings
Holding memories I cant forget while praying to a God who has forgot
But we are only allowed to keep the things that we have already lost
Sometimes living is not enough without sovereignty 
As these flightless insects crawl back inside 
Then perhaps through their death life would be more satisfied
Finger deep I draw a line then stand to face a blackened sky
I reevaluate Your presence now without You Lord then where am I 
Because this is me You were my light, subsequently my faith has died
Somewhere below the surface of this shifting unstable world of mine


Details | Free verse | |

Pollution

The prideful boast of bruises,

ingested by lurid carrion's grin

trim the passionate grit of 

words left at the altar. 

"You jest" I say. 

I am no hero. 

      I am nothing,

but the burden of

a tremulous wake. 

But the curve of your 

lips corrupt my resolve,

and sting the ego of 

a nauseated subconscious. 

I've always hated

the way I break;

the cold shoulder

of my legacy's regret. 

But you...

Quietly delve your

elegance into my 

crooked beat,

smile at my misgivings,

Call my pollution, art. 

-James Kelley 2014, All Rights Reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Walk the Dream, Fan the flame

This facade that we build
around our bones;
this walking dream

Shouldn’t be any different,
than what we keep in the night,
where the stars burn as freely 
as our hearts.

I say we stoke the fire,
throw it all in.

Watch the sand turn to glass,
peel the skin back
                    swallow the marrow of promise.

Let the light reflect.

-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Prose | |

I Can Hear The Color

The sounds of color
Dancing through my dreams
Animated notes on an
Astral stage.

Ribbons flit to and fro
A circus of music;
Energy generated in night realms…
My dreamtime stage is sweet.

Light play is the ultimate composer and
Music is a universal gift of repose.


Details | Rhyme | |

catching light

I climbed a tall tree today, 
to catch drop of light.
but then it ran away from me,
it gave me quite a fright.

the whole day I try to find
the light that ran away.
but my dear I can not find it
so ill try another day

little drops are every where
splattered on the dark
gathered around their shining king
like small flying sparks

help me please, help me,
gather up these drops
ill make a shining lantern
and make this darkness stop.



Details | Free verse | |

Garden of Irony

He breathes between winks in migraine pulse,
throbbing against the challenge of an overly lustrous day.
Watching halos fall through broken sun-glass hue,
he wonders how much more the wind will break.
Limbs rest in the arms of an aging garden,
rotting and yet, still beautiful.
Ivy swims beneath the man’s shadow,
curling its way up, and opening its breast
toward the promise of nirvana. 
He bends, takes a branch 
in his hands and ponders
the irony of life, and its 
retirement.
It feels fake in his hands,
so he flicks the bark 
off its back,
letting its naked remains
fly in 
another direction,
toward a rusting chariot,
where it will be 
delivered unto a bed of flame.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Non-recyclables

I tried to hold my breath,
lacing plastic together with curdled finesse. 
Days of remnants rolled around in a heap
and awaited it’s pallbearer. One final destination.
A graveyard necessary for human greed. 
I guess everything has an expiration date.
We find these things, and love them
desperately until they die.
Enjoy it’s taste or fiddle with its edges. 
We soak ourselves in their worth,
and hope it settles in our stomachs.
We need to know it’s money well spent.
We have to make ourselves believe that
we won’t end up alongside everything we’ve bought.
Like we’re something greater.
And yet, we will still rot under the same dirt
that we place the husks of our misguided and fickle creations beneath.
Burn me when I die,
I want to fly on the wind 
and escape the sin that I’ve been living in.
I want to visit the trees and breath new air.
I want to be better than I’ve been.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved


Details | Free verse | |

Within Captivation

As time fades into the night, the cleansing of the day...
when all of daylight is seen in the shadows tucked away...
there is an untold venture of unseen lives in untouched sight...
all the troubles endured hide inside the light.
In darkness, memories come a reminder of the past.
All evils that lay within us, covet solitary tears.
Holding us within it's dark embrace, caressing all of our fears. 
Yet, there are the quiet moments...
When a single mirrors another soul.
Such a loving rarity, feeling whole.
The light seems but a foreign place.
Appearing golden in dreams.
Against the thoughts of normalcy, a voice to recognize amongst the screams.
There is no guide to follow.
Each journey remains indifferent from the very start.
Knowing of loves intention, we leave pieces of our heart.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

YOUR Signature Part 2 of 2

" YOUR  Signature  ... "

( Genesis 1: 1  /  Rev. 4: 11 )


(Part 2 of 2)

YOUR  Signature ...
Signs On All Existence's Account Ledgers
... Is A Literary, Moniker-Masterpiece
A Singularly, Most Stentorious-Stenography
As A Monogram-Monument That Documents
& Slants To Grammar-Mercy's Typed Guarrantee
(Yet Stands Upright In Justice & Audit-Identity)

YOUR  Signature ...
Each Letter Is Love and Luminosity ...
A Stencil & Substance-Mark of Perfect Symmetry
and Punctuality With A Written-Resource-Resonance
A Sacred-Sequence of Letters Wrote In Such Serenity
Signed In Stone and On Souls and Of Sovereignty
YOUR  Signature - - Reigns So Superlatively

YOUR  Signature ...
Signs & Emblazons The Promises & Prophecy-Fixtures
and Heavenly Holy Scriptures
and Is The Greatest Designation In All of Literature
Throughout Space & Spirits & Strenuous Storms & Seas Divesture
Yes - - We See YOUR Masterstroke-Signature ...

We See YOUR  Signature ...
( Rom. 1: 20 )

       Written & Copyrighted © :  5/8/2014 
                    by:  MoonBee Canady