Long Mental image Poems

Personal Worth 
Everyone has value. Everyone has been called for such a time as this to use their unique gifts and experiences to serve others and to serve God. But what are those gifts? And...

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Baby birds tweet as their long skinny necks stretch towards blind faith. Somewhat frantically; newly born; next to dead; fragile existence; protected with life. Regurgitation from the same embodied mouth that an egg came from....

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I've always asked myself is there a thing as fate
Is everyone not responsible for his or her destiny
If it were possible the future you could anticipate         ...

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See these tiny things
Filled with thought profound;
Cute miniatures spring
From creative grounds.


In a format small,
Craft miniature books;
Haiku moments call:
Browse and take a look.


One and a half inch,
The book height is short;
Words squeezed just to lynch
Warm poetry...

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these brick bound boxes 
fill this equinox of smart headed people
of these independent achievable people
critical analysts of this 21 century 
ready to be presentable to the unmighty 
smaller population of antisocial teenage children
willing them to...

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An overwhelming feeling of fulfillment

As if I'd searched the exterior of mother earth for all eternity,

Finally reaching the core

And there he stands

He is love!

Employing every ingenious piece of man made apparatus I could obtain.

Attempting to...

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I write to her name yet again
Her touch inspires me beyond this universe
The mental image of her is tattooed in my heart
It is I the one whom holds her heart, and I keep it forever...

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I cry and so she does as well
Hold back, but myself is shown
Gain your composure as you 
Shatter into fragments of your former self
But still hold yourself together as your
Not worth the effort to strive...

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A mother is a legend
Never to whither or bend
She has plenty binders
Little, big or strong never fragile 
She is the source of one’s love
That never dries or withers away

Even in death sometime she smiles
At lost...

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"I wandered lonely as a cloud”
Quote by - William Wordsworth  


I wandered lonely as a gallivant
Looking for some ways to fill up my days
I came across a mighty swarm of ants
And was completely blinded...

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How does it feel? I feel so great I am at ease
To be pulled back to the sanctuaries of love
How do you feel toward the pulling lover?
I feel less than loving him, embracing him 
I...

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The eyes behind the glass.

Have you ever looked in the mirror while the contrast was dim?
Now the light is dim and now you are limping on a limb.
No light to make you wink, only you...

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"Did Farage really skinny dip?"
Well that's an image I'd rather skip!
Instead, I'll marvel at his craftsmanship
And try to write a playful quip…
 
For, somehow, again, he's in the news
He might as well, he's nothing to...

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"Poetic tools are a means to aid poetry, not an end in themselves'
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I don't understand why poet use poetic tools so often making a poem so tough to understand

Hiding behind the garb of metaphor, simile,...

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The pictures on the wall are kind of crooked.
The mem’ries in my head, starting to fade.
That guy there in the frame was better looking.
The mirror shows what passing time has made.
Each moment going by is...

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LOVE is ?

Is love, an essence, of flesh and skin
or a scent that's emitted, from within

Is it an impression, created by the heart
or a design, to be viewed, as abstract  art 

Is it something...

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There is No -

There is no authority more apropos.
There is no beauty more breathtaking.
There is no concept more compassionate.
There is no dream more dazzling.
There is no evaluation more eternal.
There is no fantasy more fabulous.
There is...

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As we await His second coming
We know not who we look for 
As we speak, He walks among us
But as yet closed is our heart’s door

From paintings, movies and dreams
We carry a mental image in...

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We stowed behind an enormous flint wall.
Men are battling for control of the appall. 
Our covering bastion shuddered and shook. 
Brief, yet oddly comfy, relief from the brook.

While grizzly bears wailed in the dimness. 
We were...

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Jonquils

On days when there are no poems to be found
When I drudge the depths of the murk 
I think of Jonquils.

I get stuck on those pesky flowers
And the mental image of tiny yellow and white...

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My passion is writing poetry,
it challenges my muse and energizes my mind,
allowing me to freely pen my thoughts and feelings.
I use words like a carpenter might use wood,
molding and refining each verse
until it fits just...

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There is no design wall to entrap the spirit
Inventiveness is born to last
free of prosody or syllable count
coordinated refrains hide bareness, a virtue
purity string belt for blooming worshippers
sleeping quietly in squatters' glades
who swoons poetry pads?

Fans...

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i saw him, holding her and i thought of you
memories hidden beneath expired tears emerged
a mental image freshly painted across my view appeared
slowly i mesmorized to the early past, and i held you the same...

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Beauty...True beauty can't be compared by that
physical image your flesh gives off to your mind
because in the spirit, there is no take a number 
and get in line time is of the essence and to
watch...

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Far in the distance in the light of day
I viewed crows, swiftly passing by
No doubt they had sounds from propelling wings
I imagined those sounds so far up in the sky.

Captured by that sight, but too...

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