Slip into a skin so tight
the memories are deep
The pluses of the heart,
the feel of heat
the skin is alight
Feeling the pull of the night
Black skin shiny
Slick and mean
Tight black
Razor keen
Skin tight
Memories are steep
Nothing to keep
Skin tight
black n white
Slick n serene
Blacken bone
Feeling the pull of light
Feeling this blight
the scorching of heat
The flashes of heart
the memories seep
into a skin so tight
Nothing keeps.
Let’s Rap
That’s while
Rapping Poet Style
Words assured
Focused accord
Word verse by verse
Experience and influence
Striving endurance
No curse in any verse
Some say Rapping Poet’s won’t and can’t
It’s will and shall
Cut the negative noise
Enrich the positive fact
Rapping Poets are successors
Sometimes we might sound like Professors
Too the world, we want to be heard
We take a lot of tolerance
We don’t want our words pushed under a dusty rug
Don’t call us a Thug
We need to write, and that is a must
No minus all pluses
Our thoughts pure inspiration our own
Rapping Poets want that be known
We are everywhere
We are known as the BEYOND COMPARE
Different in all aspects
What you would expect
We are our own effect
What you read is what you get
No regrets
Taking chances
Feeling confident
Exposing who we are
We function like a car
Always on the go
Rapping Poet
Wonder and Intrigue
Always on proceed
Not in need
On our own terms
Want readers to listen and understand
Rapping Poets that is our only demand.
The headline reads: "This contest is the last;
no longer enter poems to be judged.”
How disappointed we'd all be to close
a special door that leads to writing skills.
Each contest offers reasons to create-
and learn from other poems entered too.
To have a purpose to express our thoughts
by prompts for subjects, words, and styles too.
Critique is offered through the comments sent
tween interested poets who all share
the love of poetry to read and write;
so much this would be missed by one and all.
Disbanding contests- surely is akin
to closing schools- where knowledge is no more.
No purpose left to grow, participate;
No pluses left to write new thoughts- create.
tapping on the bottom of the chair,
hoping for an alteration of essence
strictly of the background noise
withstanding only what i can hear
i endured a barrier around a chasm,
one within my body,
to which the walls are water
and the center is my breath
i may drown for the recklessness of my visits,
on red pluses and shimmering silver
a peculiar feeling where i dont do much
and everyone else does
its much like living in a tomb
how of course i would never know,
i have never lived in a tomb,
but something tells me its not far away.
I take to heart that true love
Needs arithmetical attention.
Mathematical tenderness
Equations all formulas equipped
With pluses minuses and square
Roots to boot. Arithmetically
Sound
Travel with it
For sure indeed never leave the
Shore without the satisfaction
Of a truthful heart and a little
Equational engagement
physics be time and
...time...
be the phys-hics of
...change...
andt
seen as time-bubble
...fizz-hics...
a cause-effect theory
...gauges...
whatever
be of an arithmetic count
...logic...
of pluses and minuses
...that...
differentiates all things wrt
...patterns...
called thee 'neutralities' in
...sciences...
arithmatics
stan sand
In a box full of Shadows...
Dwell objects of Cryptic Imagery...
Through ancient Frosted glass...
Fractured like spider webs.
Creep items of the unknown or the forgotten.
From rusted gears of broken
clocks and crazy cracked crystal rocks.
To skulls of black cats,
And wings of Vampire bats,
Lay objects of mystery,
A severed claw of a dove,
A cards proclamation of someones
undying love and haunted misery.
Gears, strings, and wound springs...
Some very strange things fight the decay.
Worms crawl, flesh pluses, blood seeps,
Onto faded families secret photographs.
Unnameable insects beat their wings endlessly…
While stuck with pins in a frame
from childhood experiments.
Next to some exotic erotic toxic
Rune manuscripts.
Old odd bones roam
Forbidden machines hum
Spiders play, pray on sliver humanity
All these things lay quiet and forgotten in…
A BOX full of deep SHADOWs
And haunted histories
Things, beings, and deities
sit in a forgotten corners
deserted, forlorn, unknown
In a House that no one knows
Secrets dwell within...
the sealed, SHADOWBOX!
Towering
factories,
arcane,
silhouetted against
a violet dark sky
bruised lead-gray
clouds tumble.
heavens heavy in
thunder and lightning
turn in arcane patterns
of oblique, obsolete
across facades of machinery.
lightning arcs, carving
ruins in the angry sky.
ravens fly, high, black specters...
shadows dance in the dark
engines spark, whirr, burn,
hiss and steam.
lights of a necropolis
flare on horizons seams
towers of crimson, echos
scream, nightmares of industry.
bastions of empire
razor spires climb, high.
of bone
in ancient stone
something secret opens
alone
factories of arcane divinities.
dark eyes shown
righteous rights echo
hand carve ruins
in ash upon stone
smoke of infernos
billows into velvet skies
these dark minions roam,
into the unknown,
pluses of infinite power
dark towers,
arcane factories
reaching
silhouetted
against
violet black sky’s
Hands
We give the gift of our past,
to our children,
in prayers for their future.
We talk about all the pluses
and measured advantages,
they may have to have,
just to make it through life.
Looking in the mirror,
I see the face of my father.
His eyes stare back, brown...
I watch the expressions closely,
and know that I can not hear him,
but he is still here.
He is with me.
My mother gave me other things,
empathy, sympathy, sincerity,
and compassion.
She taught me to see the world,
through the eyes of pure wonder.
Amazing grace,
just the beginning of the lessons,
learned, repeated, and adjusted
to the moment of need.
My family...
is truly bigger than a few,
it is far-reaching.
It is the accumulation of a lifetime,
the knowledge of all those
that came before,
in an effort to give to those
that are still to come.
Yet is it is the kinship...
the relation to God, that is unbreakable.
It is stronger than steel
and harder than diamond.
With Him...
together we are bound,
and as one we raise...
and we know,
He... is always King!
peace'a the day be to ya
...that which you've given me...
everyday at no cost
...is a reality...
reflections within and without
...mirroring...
the middle way
…of pluses and minuses...
being without pain
...the other is never an alien...
with respect our common logic
...love on each planet is the same...
stan sand
Why can’t I balance by checkbook?
All the pluses and minus make my head spin.
Maybe I’ll just not worry about it anymore.
Lost my job and nothing to put in the account anyhow.
Employment insurance isn’t enough to pay the bills.
My wife is flipping burgers.
Not much money there.
I think I’ll walk away from it all.
The baby is crying in the crib.
He needs to be changed.
I do that now with the wife at the fast food place.
Where is that can opener so I can open a can of beans.
My cell phone doesn’t work anymore.
I put a piece of cardboad in my shoe.
It seals the hole in the sole
The electricity will be next to go.
In the last four years I have had no seasonal allergies
Thanks to all of Chaga’s wonderful properties.
Then comes along spring of twenty seventeen
And I am back swallowing a bunch of antihistamine,
For I had stop consuming my magic potion.
Really, truly, I had no notion,
Of all its pluses versus its minuses.
Now it comes too late for my poor sinuses.
Chaga, I hope it is not to late to reclaim your power
So I may stop popping pills and get off all puffers.
I believe and trust that you will not let me suffer
So I might enjoy what this season as to offer,
Like the beautiful blossoms and blue skies
without having oozing and watery eyes.
But in the meantime, family and friends, just stay polite
With each time I sneeze, just say "Gesundheit"
There we are
The journey proceed
with smiles and pain,
What we had now,will not lust forever
but luckly this destiny has unite us back together.
The floor was so sleeper,
That we couldn't stand on our feet,
Our dream were frozen in the middle of heat
We had nothing back there except Faith that told us not to quite.
If only we had second chance to life
we could have mess this one and beg for another
But that chance has only existed in movies and TV shows,
Thus the reason,we couldn't rest till we got what we really want.
If only ,we had wait so long for the future to find us
We could have been,total failures with F pluses
But now we can stand and say "There we are "
Like we are looking on future mirrors of who really we are.
......#Ys |Deep in ink,Lost in the sea of thoughts |peace
It's a lovely day in Cyprus, there's not a cloud in the sky,
We take stock of the life we have,sit back and happily sigh.
We saw a cruise ship near the harbour the other day,
It stays for while,it makes folk smile then goes on it's way.
We're not going out because Fran wanted to stay at home,
She said she was feeling tired, and didn't feel up to a roam.
This is one of the pluses that come with being retired,
You don't have to do a single thing, unless you feel inspired.
So I now sit at my computer, Fran has gone for a nap,
The dogs at my side dozing,I'm hoping they don't yap.
Yes,it's a lovely day here in Cyprus, something very nice,
I'll go make myself a refreshing drink and pop in a little ice.
Maybe I'll write some verses, what theme, I do not know.
I'll sip my drink and have a think,then maybe I'll give it a go.
© Dave Timperley 26 August 2016
We are all kids at heart
It all started from the beginning at the very start
Tom who loved Greyhound buses
This was always a childhood must
Tom was given a scale toy model Blue Prevost Greyhound bus
It was Tom’s dream being full of pluses
Happy with no fuss
While Tom fell asleep all nestled for the night
There was going to be a surprise and it will be a sight
The scale toy model Greyhound bus blue had come to life
The bus horn woke Tom up
The Greyhound Driver told Tom to get up as we are going for a ride
Well up Tom went and the travel being the stride
A ride going around the block
The Greyhound Driver told Tom, recline in his seat and put up his feet
You are in for a treat
As Tom leaned back in the comfortable blue bus seat, he suddenly fell asleep
He dreamed of that bus moment
When the next morning came, the scale model toy blue bus was back on the mantle in the exact same place
But will this dream ever be erased?
The blue bus Prevost only knows
A child’s inspiring heart that showed
Captivation, the blue bus will never tell
Good day into the night with all being well.
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