Billowing tufts of blue and green
create my peaceful place.
I think my heart has seldom seen
such happiness and grace.
The sky's lit with an amber hue
that guides me on my way.
I trip the light fantastic through
this joyful sunny day.
I'll take a walk into the park.
Or maybe I'll take flight
in a hot air balloon till dark
has glazed the day to night.
Perhaps I'll get a bite to eat
and look up some old friends.
It could be my bed will I greet
as this pleasant day ends.
written July 22,2011
for contest....Happiness is a Balloon
by Deb Wilson
We are moving
towards the perfection
day by day
Caused to be perfected
for reason of that
ray by ray
Let, sight fall
in to the primitive societies
no home, no dress at all
Chewed and swallowed
raw flesh of animals
without cooked
In court of kings
animals tried like man
punished for deeds
Now, we fly to Planets
with Rockets
see the World in home
A day will come
man will fly
with artificial wings
because we are moving
towards the perfection
in thoughts in the World.
day by day and ray by ray.
The letters are melting off the page,
Day by day they go into a fade.
The colors, they glow like paint on the snow,
And as the night goes on they vibrate into space.
The moon gazes at the little ants,
As they run around and shoot rockets at it's face.
The sun it's bold, but not bold enough,
The ants are killing the Earth and it's had enough.
Solar flares hit the Earth and colors glow,
The Earth knows it's for its own good.
One day the ants will learn their place in life,
One day the Earth will live in harmony for once in its life.
-eddie
Written 4/10/11
Summer comes all clothed in green,
To paint the path of a passing scene.
Wheat in the field bound in sheaves,
Shares the glory of gold tipped leaves.
Gossamer drops of morning dew,
Lie on a bed of radiant blue;
And clusters that hang on wandering vines,
Brings juice that gives sweet scented wines.
The midnight owl takes her rest,
Hidden in the tree in a secret nest;
And raucous rooks in ferny nooks,
Take in the scene with cautious looks.
The hawk that flies under sapphire skies,
Stretches her wing till daylight dies;
Poised in flight, her arabesques,
Soaring, dipping, seem so effortless.
Prisms of sunbeams shimmer with gold,
To capture the warmth till day grows old;
Erasing the shadows that go at noon,
As day wastes away, all too soon.
by Michael J Falotico
Dreaming is the best feeling.
Running through scenes that keep you still.
Ending up confused to what was real or not.
Always coming back to you in bits and pieces.
Mountains of reality that forms the unclear.
Into a day where reminders peck at your thoughts.
No other way to dream in a day saved for the night.
Going to doze off for a bit to play in another world.
I am conscious of the passing minutes
which bind me to a sleep-filled night.
I say to myself that restful hours are crucial,
so that I may use the coming day wisely.
I enjoy the anticipation of sleep
and the snug warmth of the cascading bed sheets
about my unrested self.
Then in such moments, I look forward to the vivid
journey of dreams, that I hope will accompany me
through the darkness.
I love the freedom of dreams and the many persona's
I get to play.
I'm no actress, yet in my dreams I play a perfect part:
even as I fly in the twilight.
Awakening in the night is not a rare occurrence,
and I find my mind travelling past each dream
like a slide-show.
I sometimes envy who I am in my dreams:
some of the beautiful landscapes I get to see.
In day time hours as the rain falls down my window,
I smile knowingly that such landscapes aren't so far away
after all.
Here I sat alone way before noon flying through P.S. with nothing to do
came up with a few lines to jot down a few notes and yes as poor as they may be there mine
whats in a day when ones alone with so much to say.
how could it be today is the day as so many lay sleeping come what may.
a kiss good night as you fell asleep as your head sunk into the pillow taking a dreamers leap.
as mornings mist kiss this day alone I sit with just words to say/
as a boy to a girl a man to his wife a lover to a lady and the way you look tonight.
a letter to you from me words that ramble on as far as the eye can see.
as I stole a kiss from the one that is you my heart still melts every time I do.
to sit here in this body with what little I know a look a smile a man with a soul
I once took a walk to find the one that is me hours later I returned and I was set free.
in rain in snow night or day winter and summer holding your hand is the greatest wounder.
I was just board wanted some thing to write
I cam up with this...mud slid I call this mornings life.
R elaxing
a nother day of not getting the yard mowed
i nviting unwanted critters in my already soaked garden
n ever a dry day in washington
Ever thought how long one day in hell would be?
Ill try to break it down, mmmmmm, let me see.
Ok, there’s this little worm about three inches long,
Feeble little thing not very strong
Well the worm would set out on a journey
From North America down to the South
It is very slow moving as it pulls itself along
Just by the top lip of its mouth.
In Earth terms, it would take him
Ten thousand years three weeks and a day
Just to mate with his faithful female for two seconds
Then head back the other way
In his lifetime, he’ll make the journey
Four million times to mate
Although he is slow moving
He never gets sick and is never late
When he returns home from his four millionth journey
He dies and has done well
This ladies and Gentleman
Is equivalent just one day in hell.
STILL NOT DEAD ( no kids allowed 2 read)
This morning I took my med.
taking more than my dose.
I am still here thrown in bed,
Lifeless and nobody knows.
I am still alive I am still not dead
I don't think I succeeded my overdose.
Should have cut my vain instead,
or stuck a whole ounce my nose.
To scared to put a gun to my head,
that would have been very gross.
Couldn't even stand it if I bled,
Stupid, me now I find a hose down my nose.
Still not dead,
Regret the day you propose.
The day I said "I DO" I dread
The feelings that came, I let nobody know.
Thinking of ways of dying instead,
holding my breath is all I show.
All this started on the day of our wed,
imagination took over making my mind blow.
Finding my self here still not dead,
Who said suicide is easier than a DIVORCE !!
i.t.
S.K.A.T. POETRY
=( Not a fact, just humor over my marriage! )=
If yesterday were tomorrow
I could be a different man
I'd do some things differently
And I could even have a plan
I wouldn't make the same mistakes
That I did the day before
I'd have a different outcome
As I live this day once more
I'd make the right decisions
As I looked back to the past
I'd take my time and do it right
And make this moment last
If yesterday were tomorrow
I'd see where I went wrong
I'd almost know the future
And be where I belong
I happened upon a sight
that made me happy
a field of peace
growing several inches a day
the field was surrounded
by men and women
of all nations
the the field was so beautiful
that it inspired me to plant a field of hope
I took some grains of peace
1 part past, present, and future
and planted it with love
every day it grows a little more
and one day I'm sure peace and hope
will blend together quite nicely
This poem is Dada
a poem that makes no sense
Heaven-like Giving
Today is a day of joy.
Santa shops for girls and boys,
Finding the most perfect toy.
Many elves are overworked.
Toiling yearlong while time lurked.
Hearing dreams with all ears perked.
Sewing clothes and making clocks,
Magic flowers, building blocks.
All the while, the time tick tocks.
Computer towers, name brand.
Some instruments for the band…
Karaoke, try your hand.
Many shoes and mini-toys,
Books about ‘Helen of Troy”
Working elves creating joy.
Day in, day out there's no frown.
Cars and toys are pushed around.
They make sure all flaws are found.
Music that is heaven bound.
Socks have fun sliding around.
Magic sights would all astound.
His lists are long. No, not small.
Many gifts he'll have to haul.
How will his elves make them all?
It's too late to hire more.
Fill this list? He'll need a score!
Solution. Shop at the store!!!
“Merry Christmas!” Rang his sound.
Buy some gifts; help elves rebound.
Heaven-like giving, love crowned.
A Merry Christmas to Ya’ll (Southern Smiles)
God's good will upon you fall
Recall heaven's way. Love all.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
November 27, 2009
How would you know if you were a clone?
Would you feel by yourself, even when not alone?
In the moments of the day when silence is there.,
Does it make you sense the glare of somebody's stare?
Could there be a connection between you and your clone?
Maybe it's you who were copied like a statue of stone?
In any event if one day you receive a mysterious call,
Don't be surprised if you hear your voice, then stumble and fall.
Each day a whisper
Each day you speak
Each day a morsel
This love that we seek
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