“To live in hearts
we leave behind
is not to die.”
Thomas Campbell
If I could colour grey clouds of grief
I wrap them in sky's sapphire relief
I'd dim delusional pale peridot eyes to wake up to your violet voice
Grey clouds of grief
I'd rewind to my childhood cherished times
Burying creepy crawling tainted tears in streams
Pursuing my twisting teal path of dandelion dreams
For I'm drowsy from howling hollow cries
I no longer desire to be feral like a fox
My heart isn't like a rackley rock
I'm melting internally my thoughts are on ice in a brittle block.
I yearn for resilient rose quartz squirrel whispers
As dawn of sangria
September arrives
Intoxicated by the air of stirring leaves magenta memories
Your first amber autumn anniversary
I seek strength from the vines of
transforming time
I don't strive to be stuck within a storm of silent sonnets in my journal at nighttime.
I long for a life again of daring escapades
Maybe hereafter
I will depart for the opium seas
It's the only place I'm free to be an antique version of me.
I am a soldier with no rank
I'm on a beach behind a tank.
With bullets whizzing and shell's that crack
Bravery I do not lack.
We strom a concrete piller box
We hide in a hole just like a fox
We take the beach and start inland
Here we fight hand to hand
My comrades fall they are dead
But into battle we are lead
After five years the war is at an end
But I will never forget my long lost friend.
For all the 'MAGAteers' and rampant conspiracy
Theory idiots running amuck, consider this:
If all is not what it seems ... why do you believe
In those fraudulent extremes?
Is it because Q-Anon says so and it gets repeated
By the church choir?
Or do the answers feed your anxiety,
Like kindling to a bonfire?
Now if you're compelled to some original thought,
Take a moment to maybe look under some rocks.
Listen to the mass of reality, not just those
Crazy like a fox,
Because the bloodhounds of truth are closing fast,
And what is circling above, are hungry hawks.
To phylum Ocimum basilicum belongs basil,
Into genus, Corylus included the plant hazel;
If purslanes, cattails, chickweeds, and wild carrots have their base,
Why can't I, in the universe vast, have and know my place...?
Might be like a minute gleam; or a shining bright sunbeam;
Might be like an oasis stream; or a nocturnal scream;
Like a buzzing butterfly; or a dazzling dragonfly;
Like a fox, cat, or rat... to nature's ways, I might comply...!
Not my ego, like a lotus, my psyche will stand high,
And fraternally pass my fragrance to the passersby;
Even an inch enough, I'm not saying out of my pride,
I know a place - my place, my space, my nest - where I'll abide...!!!
29 May 2023
Although this seems a light-weight mystery,
This was a code word of war history;
Resembling, as though words romantic-thrilled,
Volumes these words spoke of fear, frantic-filled...!
It's like the radar of war times present,
Two lanterns if by seas the foes are sent;
Bells of the church must peal once if by land,
Or twice if the 'regulars' through seas stand...!
Revere rode from Boston to Lexington,
He proved, like a fox very vexing one;
The enmity that roamed like a monsoon,
Broke out like a premature child born soon...!
Winning or losing, like day and night, goes,
Man's or woman's strength, like the moon, truth shows;
The phrase short; freedom won; Wow! Longfellow!
How charmingly have you depicted this show...!!!
Something, as though divine revelation,
Had dawned American liberation;
History, mystery, poetry mix,
From blistery great liberty did fix...!
20 January 2023
Imagine you opened First Aid Box
And, of all things, saw the blood of ox
While you’d wanted to help your Small Pox,
Would it you panic to leave your pocks
Or would you for gloves try your two socks
Or to gods try to sacrifice cocks
Or off speed in the manner of Cox
After reasoning things out like a fox?
Ox blood-stains on all sides of The Box!
Whichever you choose, not what one mocks:
This is The Twenty-First Century;
Much caution in handing injury.
I JUST HAD, TO ASK THE QUESTION,
WHAT'S REALLY, GOING ON?
SO I OPENED A DOOR IN THE UNIVERSE,
FOUND A PEAK TO PONDER ON.
ODD THINGS SEEM TO HAPPEN
AND NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE.
ONCE IN FICTION MOVIES,
NOW, IT'S EVERYWHERE.
NO ONE, SAW THE UPRISE.
NO ONE, SAW THE THE FALL.
OTHERS, WERE SIMPLY BLINDED,
NOT NOTICING, ANYTHING AT ALL.
PEOPLE WERE BEING BRAINWASHED,
CONGLOMERATES WERE BEING FORMED.
NO ONE SEEMS TO NOTICE,
TRANSHUMANISM, IS NOW THE NORM.
" "SLAVERY" IS A WAY OF LIFE."
MEANING "STAYING INSIDE THE BOX."
NEVER UNDERSTANDING,
THINKING LIKE A FOX.
NO ONE SEEMS TO REASON
SOMEHOW LOGIC DISAPPEARED.
FROM SOMEWHERE, INSIDE THE DARKNESS,
ANDRONIKOS REAPPEARS.
STREETCARS WERE ONCE ELECTRIC,
NOW CONSIDERED, IN THE PAST.
ANOTHER WAY OF SAYING,
NOTHING EVER LAST.
THOUGHTS AND WORDS ON PARCHMENT,
HAVE STOOD THE TEST OF TIME.
ELIMINATING HISTORY ,
SHOULD BE THOUGHT UPON, AS A CRIME.
Michael E. Harris
07242022
I advised Jenny Wren that I’d be there by ten.
She told me Amber Rose was in the loop.
So, I simply assumed and just entered her room
Like a fox that’s privy to the chicken coop.
I eased open the door, but I don’t know what for.
The expressions on their faces told it plain.
In confidential three-way conversations,
Sometimes it's the fox that's left out in the rain.
“THE BOX”
By:KIDD
(For all the men who’s too scared to tell)
The lies i say
I put it all on a box
Wherever i stay
They won’t act like i lack
I am not me outside
But feel free when alone
It shows up what i hide
When i take off a mask that is on
I wish i could tell
And still be the same
My life’s like a carousel
Nothing more but a game
They won’t know that I’m gay
Cos they will leave me i swear
That’s why the lies that i say
Is the mask that i wear
It’s much safer this way
For no one will get hurt
God must’ve built me on a clay
With a special kind of dirt
Still i see myself unique
In my very own special way
I’ll be kind, warm and sweet
Won’t be wrong that I’m gay
still I’m careful for what i say
Cos i still hide like a fox
I could just lie to them everyday
And just put it all in a box
- KIDD
When she opens her mouth it is full of junk
Always telling me I owe somebody money,
Spews out circulars and advertisements
Every day, I tell you, it is not very funny.
A red flag is raised to attract my attention
The contents can be slippery like a fox,
Always standing out in front like a guard
She is my ubiquitous USPS-approved mailbox.
written September 2, 2021
Young kids think this is just a game,
Running down a court learning how to tame.
Jump up, shoot the ball!
You have to give it your all.
You hear the coach yell,
thinking to yourself, what is that smell?
The smell of sweaty socks,
after running like a fox.
Next thing you know,
you’re the star of the show!
Hastening down the court,
listening for your fans' support!
Jump up, shoot the ball!
show them that you have it all!
ball goes in,
what a win!
You’re now at the state game,
and you hear them call out your name!
You hear your mother's sweet cries,
“That’s my daughter you guys!”
You hear the crowds cheer!
Can not believe this is your senior year.
You wipe the tears from your eyes,
you’re not ready for the goodbyes.
Someone is consumed with anger and has gone mad
Venting fitful words of ire ...how childish; how sad
Like a flock of loud crows
The noisy blah blah goes
It's so trite and trivial. Give it up. Egad!
Life is filled with locked doors wherever I may roam
But I will not cry 'wee wee wee' all the way home
I'm not that little pig
And I don't give a fig
So froth doesn't drip from my mouth like rabid foam
If you've a bone to pick with others in the soup
Work it out instead of posting blog poems of poop
This is a poetry site
There's no need to fight
Don't be sneaky like a fox in a chicken coop
Girls are born with a money box
Which they may share best like a fox
If what boys spend
Just gives them wind
Then girls may purchase Blue Chip stocks
“Truly I am the gate for the sheep.
Any who over the wall would leap
would alarm my flock
bring harm like a fox,
but over the fold good watch I keep.”
“I am the Good Shepherd, not a hired hand,
ready to die, a beast to withstand
for the sheep in my care.
For whatever the scare
I know my flock and they me understand.”
John 10.1-18
Evenings post parade of creatures
Of the midnight variety and nature,
Oh come all ye faithful followers
From the dark side of the moons powers,
An abyss of black on jet on onyx
She enters unannounced like a fox,
The most woman you've ever seen
But her balloon is about to pop the scene,
Shadows puddle beneath her feet
Swallowed by the Jabberwockys meet,
No man has ever seen her face
Yet she walks in unadorned grace.
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