I wake with ambition, bold as a drum,
till I trip on my slippers
and spill my own gumption.
I vow to eat healthy, crisp apples and greens,
but the cookie jar whispers
like it knows all my dreams.
I fix the loose cabinet with flair and a grin,
then discover the screwdriver
still dangling within.
yet somehow, through the stumbles and spins,
life hands me small joys
placed right under my chinny, chin, chin.
Sometimes I need light.
Sometimes we,
sometimes everyone needs light.
In the dark and the damp of rooms,
of feelings, of thoughts
and of our lives that flow,
we need light from the window,
from the open door, from the open spaces
under the open skies,
and then we need some lights to glow,
but from where, when or whether
it will come or not come, we never know.
And for the deepest dark
of our dilemmas and destinations,
of our regret, shame and sorrow,
sometimes the lights of touch and words
we need to borrow.
To light our paths of today
and tomorrow,
so that we can survive
at least within a meaningful light
all the way to the end of our show.
(07 December 2024)
Forms most enormous seen from our earth,
Dwarf the tallest, the grandest of mountains’ girth.
Magnificent spectacles rounded up in the sky:
Sculptured foam, floating frothy, towering high.
Black ominous clouds of malevolent breadth,
Funnels of doom, destruction, and death,
Whirling and wheeling, zigzagging tyrants
Twisting down alleyways, roaring in rants.
Scalloped and mackerel in all shades and hues,
Textured cloud patterns, sunlit paintings to view.
Imagined likenesses of earthlings below;
They dwarf us, impress us, then just fade away.
Menacing, magnificent, visual delight:
Dilemmas of wonder any day, any night.
DILEMMAS
duty
impromptu aside
closely
noted
the imagined
influence
in our dreams
speculation
or satire
a sensational
lightness
inventiveness
of being
stately
& sardonic
approachability
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Cool drops of water fall upon the rock
And slowly carve their way toward the sea
Much as existence, hastened by the clock,
Unfolds its wings, undaunted, soaring free.
Strange fancies yearn to take their flight and leave
The pit of slow, monotonous decay,
Though human will must bear its toil and grieve
While bound to shackles smothering their prey.
The beasts unleashed by nature never know
The cruel dilemmas baffling every mind
Held prisoner by worldly rules to grow
In covenants long settled by the blind.
The price of freedom rarely can be paid
While thoughts are trapped by reason in their cage,
Where nightmares and the arms of dread are made,
Though fear can’t turn a fool into a sage.
And, thus, existence lingers in the dust
From one illusion onward to the next,
While precious time and youthful looks are lost
And freedom is irreparably vexed.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Spheres of Grown Lad Dilemmas
Emmanuel Lavinsen Winaro.
The scope of limitless voyage
Drums of succubus groans
Morns of Alexandra dawns
Roans’ carcass_ dungeons full of mermaids
The whispers of neon as lamps
Blast castaways the sides’ mere bliss
Bloody dilemmas_illusion kisses
Ripe mangoes_potatoes and toys
The blur unclear line two meters syllable
Edible nines these signs_wasted eras
Twenty sixes dare maze_lost raccoon
Cancans’ whoredom lads grown
Flights twice_each glide metaphors
Little fix pieces myth dilemmas as spheres
-THE END-
Something lugubrious lies lurking
Inside every human being,
Preventing us from reaching
Our propitious potential.
It follows us from cradle to grave
Leaving no one unscathed
In the ever-present shadows of moral dilemmas
Within the cavernous reaches of our hearts and minds.
We struggle unceasingly with this tug-of war
Between wrong and right,
Darkness and light
And occasionally, get lost in the battle.
We do what we can to follow
Whatever religiously worshipful upbringing we learned,
Hoping that we won’t wallow
In oceans of mental mud
Or get burned.
And so we listen
To that still small voice inside
That tries so hard to rise
Above all the muck, mire and desires
Laid out before us
To follow the narrow path up
The mountain of purposeful possibilities.
Never quite reaching the peak
Of morale perfection, however,
We tend to stumble and bumble our ways around
Giving in to nature’s temptations
In multitudinous ways
By allowing our inherent weaknesses
To take control of our destiny.
Some call it sin but then again,
It may be we’re still learning to live.
Because life is no game
And neither is shame
When we’re trying so hard
To give.
Puppies or men
bears can not be friends
sooooo, I choose puppies----Amen!
Dogs or cats
Lions are not aristocats
sooooo, some are strange cats----Scat!
Friends or enemies
Parents can't be both
Sooooo, I choose byfar friends----to be both!
I've made my speech
compinsated demands, I shall still preach
sooooo, all is well, and to the eager I will now----teach.
Linda Terrell
November 2009
Moral dilemmas.
I quiz and pursue resolution to my dilemmas,
My life and Its little hiccups.
My father, he protected yet
prepared me for life’s journeys.
So the day came, I flew the coop
And he thought, he had taught me well.
But the real world and my presence in it
It bought fun, adventure and love.
Yet within all that way to many,
moral dilemmas to even want to remember.
A Moral dilemma, somewhere along the journey
I figured out, can only bring a solution.
An answer and a lesson learned
The monster in bed, calmly he would lie,
Knowing he would die on thirteenth day.
Seeking freedom, he just could not find,
Freedom has left him, slavery filled his mind.
Being alone, he was blind, he could not see,
That the world didn’t even want him to be.
With his simple mind he could not understand,
Whom he has disappointed whom did he offend?
Thinking of the good moments in the past,
He knew that for long his kind would not last.
Frozen in time he thought his dear life was,
No end, just painful and agonizing eternal pause
Cold and still, he’d lie on his bed,
Knowing that in thirteen days he’ll be dead
I did something, I thought of something.
Some processes were set in motion.
Now I’m wondering. Now I’m thinking.
I consider an impact of Heaven.
What was made by chance, and what was not?
Some of my reactions were instinctive,
Some of my actions had to come from God,
Some work was in vain, some was constructive.
What mechanisms were activated?
What power does move the unseen strings?
Am I a free being or a puppet?
I am full of dilemmas and questions...
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