My dreams are teardrops from the eyes of the
divine
What I see are liquid visions from the eye within
my mind
Lucid pictures just flow from me so know the clarity
is mine
I'm a vessel of channeled currents & am considered
a solid find
Etheric lessons were taught to me inside a school I
couldn't see
Within this ocean are many classes that are as cold as
winter seas
The life of me runs really deep despite how shallow
life can be
Depth isn't cheap for many fees must be paid through
adversity
I was taught to climb my family tree so I could get a
better view
I built a house upon my visions then watched my dreams
come true
I used the stones that many threw to help construct
something new
These steppingstones were footstools counted as blessings
they never knew
Categories:
footstools, wisdom,
Form: Rhyme
fondue's folksy fiendish foolish fiery Phoebe
fondly followed foppish fish foraging fibster Fee
ferocious foggy falls focus folklore fancy-free
fifty-fifty finnish fish foisted fiddle faddle fantasy
foolhardy footprint festered foofaraw foxy
feuding French fowls feverishly fighting fibster fee
fortunate footstools fostered finished folksy Phoebe
folly of finding feverishly fertile f-words is forever up to me.
Categories:
footstools, word play,
Form: Alliteration
A black fly in midwinter
has burgled the warm air of the kitchen.
It struggles for height,
a brittle-winged air-bender
reaching for plateaus,
higher footstools,
grasping for spice shelves
or the slope of a slick cooker hood.
The splutter
of an over-revved engine,
the bolted clicking of insectivore plates.
Up it lifts again
turning like a wounded helicopter
only to crash-land
on a dish of cooling porridge.
Mired, it scoops gravity out
from a clogged exoskeleton
staggers to a porcelain edge.
Heavy airfoils battle a steam laden air.
Its weight now cannot be sustained.
It falls to the hard kitchen floor
spins disorientated on its back.
A dervish dance.
Sibilant thunder-claps
of a now dismantled buzzing.
Will it try again
to lift its wreckage?
Between the paused silence
of a ticking wall-clock
a burnt-out fuselage trembles.
Nothing disembarks.
Categories:
footstools, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Passé is age.
You have sage.
Never believe that you were not the same in your younger days.
You know you are a savant of reflection.
Mystified are your people of your different directions.
Retro is your perspective.
Fashionably nostalgic is your drag.
Evocative becomes your swagger.
Reconsidering your arrogance, to ensure your expressive ways are not
embarrassing.
The exposition publically done is a meaning in discussion.
Retrospective are you as a renegade.
Faded dreams are obsolete memories.
Many steps you have taken to fulfill long-term goals.
The ladders of life are footstools.
When you peak, you should set another goal.
Retro is prospective also.
Your potential is implemented via open doors.
Forthcoming is a greater determination.
Real meaning to all your trials and trepidations is the manifestation of your
fundamental nature.
Appreciate the discipline of old-fashion ways.
The streets travelled are an achieved path that aspects life into schemes.
_______________________________________|
Penned on June 03, 2014!
Categories:
footstools, appreciation, betrayal, career, change,
Form: Rhyme
TLC MTB
Us meant to be is what that means
This chant made us strong
giving us a powerful bond
We float up and reach the highest peak
then come back down to prove we can't be beat
People thought we dissed what was underneath our feet
but before we were the footstools you stood on when you were weak
Don't try to change it now
you were lost now your found
in between a lie you didn't have to tell
now you have your soul to sell
to a stranger only reeling in more danger
with the rod of blackmail
waiting to grab you by your tail
then munch on your dreams like their nothing
we chased the waterfall cause we knew it was coming
Categories:
footstools, fear, identity,
Form: Rhyme
Silence reigns upon the earth as
Sunset bids farewell to the day.
Daily chores completed , tired feet upon footstools lay
Little ones tucked into beds after a day of play.
Silence reigns upon the earth
where noise before was heard
a gentle breeze soothe troubled minds
with whispers soft and sweet, heard only by those at
the point where two worlds meet.
Silence reigns upon the earth
except for nocturnal sounds
of cricket cries amid the dance of candle flies
that illuminate the night.
Dogs howl, no longer bark,
as moonlight spreads her light
sending trees into shadowy flight.
Silence reigns upon the earth
as man settles down to sleep
to dream ,and whistle through drooping lips
as deeper into slumber he slips.
Categories:
footstools, peace, earth,
Form: Rhyme