Grey, hairy, beady eyes,
Scuttling away, spinning,
Webs of perversion,
Sticky tendrils wrapped,
Around my walls,
Breaching boundaries,
Like Halloween romp,
Long held fears,
Diverse, scary feelers,
Sqirting surface spray,
Their mandibles merge,
Guess we're all human,
But loathe spiders and pimps.....
.
oops
hol'lup
my iz
dream
calling me
Worst self-critic can be,
Navel-gazing, so like me,
Let bygones be gone,
Thoughts yammer on,
Guess it's not so bad,
Doormat is my fad,
People pleaser I can be,
No drama queen, you see,
On foibles, turn the page,
Think cosmic at this stage,
Being kind is the best,
Soldier on, then sit and rest,
Poet, handmaid and woman,
Being only one merely human.
What good do we do?
in this world we are in
especially with our tongues
giving our sounds an airing
We humans have a voice
given to us to air a sound
to which we should use well
or else it'll be buried underground
So often this voice is so human
for it fades away into the air
just in a moment, it goes away
never to sound the same indeed so rare
At times we wish we were not so
to be like animals not to talk
what troubles we would escape
just to be like that big rock
It would be good to ponder
on this fact of a human voice
be wise on how we use it
for we humans do have a choice
(Quote:
The Human Voice Is Merely A Sound That Fades Into The Air - Anon.)
We are merely human
Not gods nor beasts
Something makes us different
Not powerful, just unique
She distributes the wands and the cups.
Her client taps a card, choosing it.
The death card comes up.
The client gasps.
She takes her hand and begins to explain.
She has Bambi brown eyes, and a kind soul.
The client settles down, wanting to believe
in her explanation, in the cards, in a happily ever after.
She is not merely a soothsayer and a card reader,
She is a psychologist, a mother, a grandmother, and a crone.
She understands the value of being optimistic
of bringing hope into each tarot reading.
Her clients are loyal, coming back to see her again and again.
She uplifts them, inspiring hope, promising joy.
It is what they get, for it is what they now expect.
My friend, why have you spun out of joint?
Or am I now cross-eyed?
Is one of us running out of rhythm?
Or both spinning in circles?
Why is everything I say just a question?
Can I speak or write a statement?
Would you play Beethoven,
or shall I put on Mozart?
Is this not something I ask you?
So why should this be so?
I will change.
Gosh, I've just made a statement, not asked a question!
Was this not a great conversion?
(May 2022)
Mind merely knows, whilst our heart glows
One with the universe
In stillness slow, our soul mellows
Singing the divine verse
Single eye spherical
By touch vibrational
Feels bliss pulse radial
Exit shallows
Mind merely knows
08-November-2021
Quietus
If external reality is merely perception ~
Is whatever's out there just cruel deception?
Life was not mused on, merely enjoyed!
No questioning but from silent eyes
Wondrous wide, no more dismal for
Every secret hung in night skies.
When all for Right and Wrong's blurred lined
Distinctions worth making clear
As quick our sprint, for play-border's own
Lit, unlit defined, would appear.
Even as wind with a rainy hand
Was slapping a face I could reveal
Each season's terror was washed away
In the torrent of its appeal!
He brags about his expensive house and his pricey things.
He has all of the best parts of a house but no people inside
Not even him, for he has to work three jobs to keep it.
He never meets a good woman, never has a family.
He spends his life alone.
He brags and brags, bringing me over to see his stuff sometimes
Not allowing me to use the pool, even though he does not swim himself
Never sharing a meal, for he eats boxes out of the freezer section.
He brags and brags about his home
Not realizing he has only a house and things that cost money.
Nothing of value, nothing worthwhile, nothing to keep his heart warm or happy.
He dies alone among his things
Without family or
A friend
No. I am not.
I am merely his lawyer.
I plan his memorial
I am the only one in attendance.
No friend. No neighbor.
Maybe he will find his riches in his forever home.
At least I hope so.
Death is not cruel.
Its hands, untouched by prejudice,
Welcome each and all at the behest of Time.
For Time, Death's Companion,
Compels us to accept Death's embrace,
And daily reminds us of its eventuality.
We may shout, cry, rebel, or simply turn away,
Believing that which covets our lives is unscrupulous.
It is life which leads us to this abhorrence.
I am life's fool.
For though life gives no promise
Beyond the act itself, of being alive,
And refuses any union,
I've begged purpose and love to lend life grace,
And defend against the dread of my mortality.
Reflected in death's eyes, will I feel betrayed?
When seeing it's I who was life's purpose,
Will I struggle on or fade from life's own impotence.
My love for you,
Provides me strength and aegis.
It is proof against the casual life,
Where prosaic people pass with derision
For all but the material, self-serving and vain.
It illustrates a life filled, essential,
For when life's light is no longer aflame
We've shared laughter and love and hence I propose
That this is our true significance.
`
Maple leaf wishes fall,
scattered about a silent lawn
framing pathways hidden beneath
blankets of decaying sorrow
I wander with eyes closed
for to see means to cry among these
shadows creeping in deep tones
as my thoughts once again fade into you
Northern borders point fingers
with emptiness as their focus for
where I sit, I sit alone wondering
does the thought of us still exist
And as the moon rises, it is no
longer a poem waiting to be written
but just a blurred reminder
of something once shared
Broken branches are now my bed,
though sleep is useless
for all I see is you and me
before waking to the reality that
happiness is for others,
dreams are merely fiction and
sometimes love is not enough
and never will be again
9/9/19
Written for the : Sometimes love is not enough Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Merely Choices
Millions of hugs and millions of kisses are missing
So too those glorious days for reminiscing
Too many balls and too many dolls never played with
Sixty million laughing voices, silenced as merely choices
We now ride with young Willie McBride
But you will never sit at our graveside
For us there are no white crosses, no names upon a wall
No one’s even heard our voices, we are gone as merely choices
No glory, no honor, no eternal flame
No laughing, no crying, no chance at a game
Our demise rationalized as a right
Since we had not a voice, we were extinguished as merely a choice
But we are a living heavenly chorus
Singing out that you might not ignore us
We were butchered on an alter deemed progress
Sixty million silent voices, sacrificed as merely choices
What we love dearly, (5)
May have started out merely, (7)
Yet now see clearly. (5)
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