soft paw prints in snow
the only trace of visit
sly fox travels on
Quarrelsome neighbours are the worst
Rage bubbles and screams of obscenities escalated
~ Taken away in a hearse
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
i wait for the day i’m no longer a stray?
for the moment my soul finds a place it can stay
?when all death arrives, quiet and whole
?and i am no longer split by the weight of control
from now until then, i will face my own eyes
?mirrors of truth that echo in lies
?i flinch at the sounds that no one else hears?
words sharp as wind, too loud for my ears
for years i've heard the bark and the chirp
?nature’s chorus, relentless and curt?
surrounding each choice i have made in the dirt
?calling me home to my mother earth
Too much lucidity makes you suffer, makes you cry..
lucidity in this crazy life we live in... illusion is better...
I hadn't seen my love for so long,
I was beginning to wonder if I had done something wrong.
The weekend had flown,
I was feeling so much alone.
Mondays here time to go back to work,
I am feeling so emotional, I couldn't go so I decided to shirk.
I know my not going might cause my boss disturbance,
But they will have to accept I have taken unwritten absence.
Atmospheric disturbance
Crashing Thunder rain thunder sane?
Boom! Complain to who?
Lightning frightening heard
A thunder word boom boasting bolts
Atmospheric nerve claps
recked but pay no heed and through the wood's
to a gas station though some path witch thought it was warning
thick and dark
couldn't have caught me
a rock 25 yard's to the left
it was early and they were on brunch
the stand still stood off silent
not even a twig snap in sight
This merciless tyrant,
Tormentor of souls
Chooses trusting young
Leslie as prey
He scrambles her thoughts
And darkens her moods
Each dawn brings
The same stormy day.
Alone and adrift
On an ocean so vast
She’s as lonely
And lost as can be
But on the distant horizon
Gleams a gold, welcoming shore
That no one but Leslie can see.
When my joy was a tad to joyful
To your liking and your taste
I remembered to stop smiling
And I did so too with haste
I would not show my elation
Nothing was to my delight
I would speak not of contentment
And for you that was just right
For I dare not spoil your moments
Since you could not stand my bliss
In your presence I’d be careful
Or something would go amiss
Fond were you of my dejection
That alone would do you good
That is when you would be happy
And this fact I understood
For my joy was a disturbance
Yes, you made it a big deal
So, I chose to hide my gladness
To make your happiness seem real.
Wendy Nipas
A loud noise jars my senses
Rips me away from creative thoughts
And steals my inner serenity.
Is it a passing truck back-firing?
Or a teenagers glass-pack shouting
"Notice me, you fool,
I am
Macho man!"
written August 2, 2021
Warmth of a disturbance
When energy travels
With wings of passion through
Water, air and land. The
Wax and wane of moon stirs
Waves of ocean to swell:
Whirls of soft ebb and flow.
Date: 05/10/2021
Submitted for: Pleiades W Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Snow laying casual on tree-branch fingers
suddenly startled, falls to the ground,
beaten to its refuge by a bullet wearing blood.
A small disturbance we call hunting.
Our youth in eagerness spreading
to cover in life what we cannot touch in death.
Surrendering moments we do not bleed
to spread like slow molasses
over brittleness of bone;
melting snow, evaporating rain,
growing less eager to conquer,
moving to a place of understanding,
borrowed from a time we do not own.
Now, a missing moment of time arrives
and you are here to greet it.
A rundown duplex in an old inner city place
The walls smeared with dog in an outright disgrace
It smelt of no hope and no future for her anyone more
The neighbours complained of loud music and bad language behind her door
We were called one evening and she answered to us
Bleary eyes and drunk she wondered at the fuss
The scars on her face a sad story told
Of a car crash that maimed her in drink and speed story so old
Photos showed there was a time when she was a good looker
Gone now forever living life as a low class hooker
When she spoke it was slurry and blubbery
Wanting something she couldn’t have in a horror story
We turned the music down and said it had to stop
In a useless charade they was all that we got
So we left to go back to the world
She remained there a lost soul with little left to be held
And alone she lived on in this downtrodden place
In filth as a struggle with no time or grace
I wrote on the log in upper case
Music turned down AQOL NFPA in the appropriate place
Once and a while we had to go back again
For a similar job and a result that would never an end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
101 is a police code for a disturbance.
TIMES AGONY THOUGHT
UNFULFILLED AMBITIONS FOUGHT
disturbance
felt within
due to external
perplexity
created by
way of stupidity
that can not
be reminded
with out
difficulty
placed upon
the current
situation that
i find myself
experiencing
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