Best Spindle Poems

A string wrapped around a spindle
Unwinding as an hourglass marks time
Sand trickles  to the chamber below
Marking the moments of my life 
Questioning “have you truly lived”
The sound of silence drives me mad
The hourglass drags me back in time
I relive the nightmare of my dread...

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This story is about a young girl named Sapphie Smith.
Her parents were poor, so they lived in a small house,
And Sapphie had only three toys,
An hour-glass, a spindle, and a doll.
The hour-glass had been her father's,
The spindle her mother's,
And when she was younger, Mother had...

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Spiritually it spun me around in circles
Peering deep within my soul, it encircles
Indigo colored waves of the spectrum
Needlessly filtered out of introspection
Down into the rabbit hole of realization
Leery of the truth and capitalization of
Ending it too early 

So I didn't and I kept spinning on...

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Give me a shelter to interpret these feelings
A locus where my brain could redeem the shackles of its echoes
Domination of intrigues try to play on my guile
I wish someone could fathom the grains of these ambiguities

Pardon for the perplexity which occured beyond my capacity
Half of...

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Mistakes made, 
but not me. 

While charging
this bigotry
I fail to fall
into what 
should be absence
of argument. 

Into an abyss, a 
Dark Traveler
I easily
Become if
I remain 
Unconscious. 

Our differences
Nauseate me
so I prick 
my finger in
order to 
Dream.

Pleased now that
our Prince Charming
is one in the same.

With love...

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Hourglass Spindle and Lifeless Doll

Stephen is unable to sleep so he heads to his office. He sits down and picks up the ancient hour glass sitting on his desk. He flips it over and watches as the sand trickles through the narrow opening in the...

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I suddenly became aware
(although rooted motive not clear)
avoiding self castration ere
yours truly back during
forty three plus summers ago

(do the math and figure out what year)
long haired pencil necked geek
applied dull razor
to remove, (albeit temporarily) hair
covering these skinny legs.

The missus asked me
(hitherto known as her bozo)
just...

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A young woman
Sleeps
Dreams of a spindle
Possibly a magic spindle
So she may spin
Some special threads
To create a lovely sweater
For winter is upon her
And her hourglass says
Time is about up
Her dream will end
And she will awaken
And that darn doll of hers
Will be between her arms
And her body
Watching...

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Mistakes made, 
but not me. 

While charging
this bigotry
I fail to fall
into what 
should be absence
of argument. 

Into an abyss, a 
Dark Traveler
I easily
Become if
I remain 
Unconscious. 

Our differences
Nauseate me
so I prick 
my finger in
order to 
Dream.

Pleased now that
our Prince Charming
is one in the same.

With love...

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YOUR QUIET ALLURE
DRAWS ME INTO
YOUR SEA OF SUBJECTIVITY
YOUR BRIGHT SMILE
COMPELS ME
YOUR PASSIONATE EYES
HOLD BACK A FURY
I AM ENTHRALLED
BY YOUR PARADOX
YOU SPIN YOUR THREADS
AND WAIT
I'VE COME TO YOU
YOUR TIMID PREY
I'M LOST
INSIDE YOUR WEB
I'M STRUGGLING
BUT I'M CAUGHT.


2000...

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A fairytale
with you and I
beauty was wide awake
and I didn't hesitate.
I reached towards you,
a prick ensued,
something entered 
my blood stream
and suddenly I
needed every ounce of you.
My high. My don't say goodbye.
My. My, my, my...
Love simplified...

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Work overtime to keep your love alive
When flames flicker
And feelings strive to dive
To drive your love weaker

By dint of neglect
You slowly indulge as less and less care
You offer when you select
Attitudes that in full glare

Betray paucity of empathy
Seen in indifference, sulk and insolence in silence
Through...

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A babe, I raise my arms, stretching
     To catch my life book, opening chapters
          Amid my mistakes, I cry dried tears clinging
          Youthful...

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If only Autumn 
could relent its teeth
like a furnace burning bright
it celebrates the dearth
of confidence
like friends lost at sea
It claims lost souls
spindle wood
you've pawned our tomorrows
and adjourned our yesterdays...

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In halls of time threaded upon the spindle of lingering thought,
Youth sheds at dawn like dew entwined on strawberries,
Weaving a veil of dreams and hopes, the storm is but a hushed song,
The greatest gift—a mystery shared on pages of life yet untrodden.
It is the whisper...

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