Used and discarded thought shadows lurk
at every sunrise as if each were renewed.
A touch from the fading past, in a moment
as i look at the wet pebbles, ever decreasing.
Welcoming the receding tide, a caressing breeze
on which floats, the busy two tone oyster catcher.
On that breeze voice’s travel, voice's calling out
over the relentless, out going, in coming waves.
Are we all but driftwood ? Leaving to return
when the gorse flower is yellow in rare sunlight.
Maybe rudderless, in a firm belief and trust,
of our hearts compass, and its choice is free.
Be elusive ! Leave no trace, be faceless in
milling throngs and crowds, not out of place.
Perhaps a living phantom, amongst many,
yet never carless in your constant carefree.
Blend into the background, be seamless.
You are just accepting the world spins on its own
I am here, you're not ever going it alone
You cast such blinding light when we are together
Heavy burdens, I'd shoulder yours to a feather
When cold rain falls, chilling you to the bone
I'll be there at your side, umbrella prone
The strength I feel within you could withstand all storms and other forms of bad weather
The brightness you provide makes my shadow yours, without any physical tether
Crawling on my floor.
I stare hazily at the intricacies of the wood grain and realize slowly all the messes in my way.
Curl up, holding myself, prepare yourself darling life is a beautiful maze.
I feel the cold on my skin, I feel choked from the waters that I swim.
I dream each night nightmares it's hard to fall asleep. Everything inside of me flows and starts to creep.
I hold my breath with panic. Feeling isolated and lost on this planet.
Anxiety surrounds my body. My stomach feels all knotty.
Can I ground myself. I go from counting 1 all the way to twelfth.
My eyes become blotchy and the haze rolls away like the fog.
I release the pressure in my body like a drain with a clog.
My world starts to pull together. My breathing starts to slow.
Hopefully in a few minutes I'll be better.
My strength will surely grow.
Poetry positively prolongs
More flare read on
Excellent enjoyment
Exceptionally electrically
Surreal surroundings
Poetry does that with professional
Precision poetry fragrance worth
Breaths of floral love Sigh Sigh
Polite insight of the bluest
Botanical Gardens known
With the spring of things
Poetry picking petals of
Unforgettable forget - me -nots
With indigo spots
Indigo Gardens indigo Roses
Watch the poses of the most
Fragrance filled floral patterns
Known which leaves one prone
To rose poems
Loyal to the Majestic Throne........
Of the Rose
wish the world without the word right
never felt ever begun
giving gravity the push
when will the breaking give me a break
tests never tried to pass
doesn't pain have a heart
defeat seems so long ago
hope is always a no show
The dog starts to growl
in its house in the corner
as cat comes closer.
Defying death..
Defying death
Trying my fate
How much it would take
For my dreams’ sake?
Must I to know
Or can I let go
Can my curiosity be contained
Or the furiosity be mundane?
Was it me all alone
Or was it with someone I had known
Had I only gone
Or the others had been prone
Defying death
Trying my fate..
First grade, pelted with eggs
Second grade, broke both legs
Third grade, fell down the stairs
Fourth grade, clawed by a bear
Fifth grade, ran into a tree
Sixth grade, twisted a knee
Seventh grade, concussed my head
Eighth grade, fell out of bed
Ninth grade, had meningitis
Tenth grade, appendicitis
Eleventh grade, torn hamstring
Twelfth grade, acute bee sting...
So, to allay any fears from admission committees
I wrote the following college application ditty:
You may consider me somewhat injury-prone
But I have yet to break my first wishbone
And I give you my whole-hearted assurance
That I will use my parents' health insurance
Sitting in traffic on my cell phone
Thought perhaps I might be accident-prone
Got softly run over
Minor injuries to my rover
Now just sit here playing on my xylophone
Though our knees are broken
When we pray to thee
Though we are mocked
When we ask Him to set us free
We shall despair not
For glory and honour we are prone.
We nay have suffered
Blood we may shade
Rebuke our daily bread
In this foreign lands
Yet tall He stands
Mercies He will give us
Sorrows shall come to pass
For in His formidable face
We are the chosen race
In joy we shall rejoice.
Our blushes of shame
God will turn them
Never shall we be to blame
Let's avoid this earthly pleasures
In heaven we have our treasures
And double shall be the measure
In faith we remain still
We overcome the thrill
Before him we bow
The end shall glow
As his promises flow.
We may fall
Broken as the ancient walls
Soaked in tears
Foretelling our fears
We shall whisper in His ears
To us he will remain dear.
We commit our afflictions to the Messiah
As foretold in the book of Isaiah
Double shall be our compensation
Eager, we shall wait for this heavenly portion.
We assume all doctors are professionals, right!
When someone needs help, they help with the fight
This assumption is true
But they're human too
Prone to misdiagnose unfortunately in spite
prone
alone
so lonely
solely for him
pained pale limping heart
our love now quit
no visit
no phone
moan
Accident-prone
Waitress work is interesting and busy
It’s not fancy and puts you in a tizzy
On my feet all day long working
Carrying trays to customers that can be entertaining
No time for errors on full course dinners
We want the meals to be winners
People come and go
Some I know, some to the door I would like to show
Some have humors
Some are charmers
Some enjoying their food and think the service is just perfecto
Some are disgusted with both; I want to give them the heave-ho
I want to throw away my apron, I’m going wacko
Carrying a full tray I trip on a loose carpet
Food all over them and me on my butt I set
Fortunately, they were understanding didn’t make a racket
Felt like an idiot, I wanted to exit
Try not making it a habit
Pouring coffee, someone distracts, oh a bad mishap
Turn and pour it on the customer’s lap
A five dollar tip was left on my cap
That l’d left behind because of my mishap
I melted and hid, I actually felt like I was in a trap
Now I have to face the boss’s wrath
Can I survive the aftermath?
©4/27/2015
Contest: The Pigeon Who Flew the Coop
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
Accident Prone Pilot.
The ship was going up river to unload
containers full of scooters and tractors;
rain upland water level higher than usual.
There is an overpass across the river and
the ship´s bridge and communication mast
collided with it. It took a month to repair
damage to the ship and she was ready to
sail down the river, out to deep sea again.
There had been no rain for rain for a month
water level was lower than usual.
Going under the bridge was a piece of cake,
nervous pilot and anxious captain smiled,
but then the ship shuddered and got stuck in
the mud.
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