PREFERRED PURPOSES-:-
subdued
delicate
light
complete
anonymity
yet MEETING FAMILIAR
conditions
yellow
blue
arresting
brightness
had SPREAD FAR&WIDE
forfeiting
romantic
atmospheric
glittering
glory
poetry has dual purposes you know
evoking emotion, inspiring others to grow
metaphors and similes busy comparing things
sometimes so rhythmic, you can enter a karaoke sing
lines and stanzas showing the reader the way
eliciting sadness or humor in pinks, yellows and gray
If someone bothers you with meanness
dance away
with a smile on your face
or skip
If you run away
they will feel powerful
If you crawl away
they will rejoice
She wears her hair this outrageous way to try and put off adults.
She has no use for adults, they lie, and they are mean.
All adults?
She thinks so
Due to her experiences.
She dyes her hair an odd red color, and she poufs it up.
Forming clouds which she sticks yellow carnations in.
No one wears their hair like this!
Except her.
And it suits her.
Young children like it.
They think she is a fairy godmother.
She enjoys them, and they adore her.
When their parents come over, she disappears.
Nothing suspicious about this, right?
an old piano
child size
lays in the garbage heap
its body broken
its innards hanging out
on the frame
like the ribs of a skeleton broken into pieces
its ivory keys are separated and cover the ground
its poor, in bad condition and cheap
to many not worth repairing
for most purposes it is dead
only to be remembered by few who knew and loved
PURPOSES
loose
&free
everything
&
no thing
verbalized
peeling
splendour
fading
an absence
of
atmosphere
solid
& audtere
squashed
by the
natural
into
the occasional
by the
traditional
teased
into
the surreal
When the sun sets, flecking clouds with diaphanous light and birds whistle daytime’s last summer psalms, we call it night.
We’re moonbathing and Sunny’s features are inlaid with glamorous silver-blue patines. We’ll reawaken soon, our time is measured in assignments, not in hours, days or even seasons.
Responsibility is a villain of our own devices. You can run from it, bolt your door against it, only to find it’s right there - in back of you - smiling like a tiger or a parent.
Unfortunately, the university isn’t a hotel. It’s more of a competition, like those survivor shows.
We’ll enjoy the moonlight, for a few, laconic moments, for it seems to possess a sweet power to cool and calm, but soon our purposes will call, irresistibly, and we’ll return to the performance.
.
.
Merriam Webster: laconic: brief to the point of seeming rude.
Poetry has its perceptions
imposes itself upon silence and
fulfill voids of the heart ...
All its way is ethereal and charming
and then walk with eyes of spirit
and hands of humanism..
For being emotion
live to offer peace
and joy for free...
Poetry is magnanimous,
does not aim for laurels
nor subserviences...
Wish so only being
verse and poet
for the life... !
Content in my reason, I indulge my future distress
Feckless friends and fiends lie...together
Our homemade misery surmounts
Indeed, we do have a habit of making habits
This Intention for contention is our invention
A fleet of reckless daggers flow from my mouth
I decimate past and present alike
Thus, the future flees from my nearsighted discourse
My dreams vehemently elude themselves far from my sight
Devoid of ambition, I fall from the sky with Lucifer and all of his friends
These means will never be justified
Choleric, we are vexed by our sugar-coated ends
This silence overtakes us
We are lucid metaphors of our former-selves
I lie awake and wake to lie
My half-empty bottle is never fulfilled, and never content
My heart is a home of chaos
A passionate portrait of selfishness
I am a kin to fruitless endeavors
Forgetting sense, I meagerly float throughout this wretched discourse...
Beauty so she was.
Kind so she was.
Ugly beautiful,
beautifully ugly so she was.
Strong, divine-
tired of time,
so she was.
Lost in a huge small world.
No difference between,
happiness and misery.
Nothing to say-
yet, full of words,
so she was.
The world so blinded; however,
the truth is easy to feel.
Purposes are ultimately opinionated,
so, is my purpose creativity?
Every-thing constantly changing,
so was she.
Purposes for a Probe
May be many purposes for a probe;
Should hear about in each ear lobe;
Another rumor;
He hates Schumer;
Horrible Trump has been a homophobe.
Jim Horn
Two fawns
Twins
Siblings
Innocent and sweet
Headed to dangers unknown to them
A warning from a stranger
Mother arrives
Babies play at her feet
Mother knows best
Always
Toward the danger she leads
No fear
No doubt
Just instinct
In and out of danger she leads them
Confident
Alert
Determined
Lessons to be learned
The stranger holds their breath
It is then
At this moment
It is learned
Control is not theirs to be had
To be held
But to be relinquished
Two fawns
Twins
Siblings
Innocent and sweet
Learned where and what to eat
Learned how to live
Learned what lessons to give
To the strangers
That watch them
Day to day
Month to month
Season to season
Then
BANG
Purpose is met
Sustenance is formed
A family eats
~Mandie Vinson 08.02.2017
Poems Serve Many Purposes
Poems I understand can be confusing;
Are no firm rules you should be using;
Mine can be cure,
And for sure endure;
Are easy to read and may be amusing.
Jim Horn
When a calm breeze, whiplashes trees,
and the sun, hidden behind cloudy skies,
casts deep shadows, then we need expertise
to fix what’s not broken. Though it’s no surprise,
to know our world has turned topsy turvy!
When a swimmer braves, storm tossed waves
of a serene and placid sea - smooth as glass.
When a thrill seeker, to satisfy his craves
hopes a second takes an hour to pass.
Do we accept our world is topsy turvy?
When a cloudless sky, blue and high,
soaks us with heavy drenching rain.
Do we weep, and laughingly sigh
for it to return and do it again,
as we accept our world is topsy turvy?
When we express thoughts, by saying naught,
with words unspoken, but uttered loud,
and we’re running fast, at a leisurely walk,
whilst watching the sun obscured by cloud,
is proof the world has turned topsy turvy?
When contradictions are there, seen everywhere,
hidden in plain view, from all and everyone!
And images seen in the clarity of foggy air,
allow breaking dawn to show the day is done!
It’s proof the world we know, is topsy turvy!
Rhymer. April 10th, 2017
Poems for Meaningful Purposes
If my many poems were like little pills
How and which ones could cure all ills
For problems become a big solution
Filter air to find all of the pollution.
Make things rest easy along with mind
Provide food when you wine and dine
Poems as costume worn on Halloween
Become a beautiful mountainous scene.
Poem being punt in great football game
Comfort when field goal missed, such a shame
Wheels going around when you ride a bike
Tasty meal after having been on a hike.
Poem was being played by band in a parade
And in siren of a vehicle coming to our aid
Read at inauguration of a new President
Gun control policy receiving your consent.
Poems for meaningful purposes seem to be
And all of mine have written magnificently
Finally came to a conclusion the other night
Write one for myself maybe I just might.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
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