Best Crease Poems
Sunshine drops a morning wink
A soft warm breeze I sit and think
Across the lake the mallards wait
In southern skies a journeys date
The oaks are hung in painted gold
Where pretty words of praise are told
Sounds of life along nature's path
Wonders filled her righteous bath
With guide of visions beauty blessed
Through eyes of blue my soul's caressed
I stroll near edges of summers crease
The bluebirds sing and I'm at peace
Zenith from a telescope
Chose this device at times to view the slightest hope
Fractured elements of my past seem to have their grip
For a brief time to reflect on struggle as rain starts to drip
Having faith that a single memory would significantly improve you
Captivating true affection for somebody special because I don't want to lose you
Proving that my worthiness is not minuscule, I approach with warm intentions
In the same field I'm fading desperately in need for attention
Not to mention I have Dysthymia, a ligament to severe depression
Regardless of my atmosphere, I remain strong
So when I finally meet a girl, she can say I was the right one all along
Usually I'm up before dawn thinking of her future presence
Been riding solo for 20 years, digging myself out of the hole I fell in
I made negative choices that brought me near a closed door
All the pain I go through speaks to the ones already in storage
Collected notes and journals locked away when my tears start to pour
Difficult for me to accept the fact I'm distant from the girl I adore
Broken artificially due to the chemicals that consumed me during birth
Thanks to Mom I'm cursed with lack of blood flow when I'm trying to learn
Aggravation reached it's climax while I roast and burn
At work their explanations are never clear and firm
Only answer is God until I eternally yearn
please believe in self,nothin else,whoc ares who sits upon the shelf,witht he
filth,unlike me,eternity,who bleeds for thee.can i give it?or shant i spit it?jumbalia.
Folding The Crease
Two ideas we do decree,
Heads or Tails, Steam or Sails.
Black or White, Dim or Bright.
Do we not allow, an option ‘C’?
Two just fits our life of rhythms,
Out or In, Her or Him.
Left or Right, Loose or Tight.
But we need more, for life’s tough decisions.
Binary choices seem quite clear,
But look beyond
The detail here.
That random devil just
Sits by deepest blue.
While a rock and a hard place,
These await for you.
War and Peace follow no rules.
Lifelines run
On random spools.
Some know War,
Some know Peace.
Somewhere between these two, lies that crease
That oh so easily, folds us into state of War,
Or allows us to unashamedly bask,
In that Peace, we should not ignore.
©Keith Murphy
Form:
Those apples you call cheeks are as fresh as a currant, grapefruit!
Wanna eat them my luv! For they're chubby and sweet!
The crease on your neck is a line on blue-sky.
It squints for a smooch which my lips can't deny.
His role, sadly, that of “The Little Prince”**
tending to a long forgotten rose
preserving the truth of memories lies
her beauty in a folded crease repose
His love a trembling finger’s gentle touch
of longing etched within the silent eyes
alone within the dusty grip of past
touches the curling edge of timeless sighs
turns pages of a life slow edging black
nurtures each fading petal in retreat
collects every shallow dusty breath
enfolds them in a moment’s mourning sheet
He carries her – his long forgotten rose
love’s beauty in a folded crease repose
(**The Little Prince” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
©7/27/2018
for the Not Just Any Old Rose Poetry Contest