One joyful footstep
loosens procrastination
morning air tastes sweet
the mind keeps that light aglow
long after the walk has passed
Pleasure leaves a trace
on shoes waiting by the door
soft invitations
before thought can intervene
habit heeds motion's call
Inner loops turning—
unconscious desires take root
deep beneath reason
each fond spark of exercise
trains the nerves to yearn return
Laughter after strain
widens the spirit's landscape
breath steadies the mind
small victories slowly build
through patience and resilience
Outer loops rising
gather strength from calm delight
builds hope through movement
each glad act enlarges life
as wellness echoes health back
No harsh discipline—
only the pull of feelings
gently repeated
what once needed force and will
becomes enlightened desire
It is 3:48 a.m.
regular people are sleeping.
Proof that I am irregular
Just one more nail in my coffin
I stare at the clock
3:49, 3:50, 3:51, 3:52, 3:53
Maybe this will lull me to sleep
3:56, 3:57, 3:58, 3:59, 4:00
My whistling and wheezing have returned
4:03, 4:04, 4:05, 4:06, 4:07,
Twenty minutes of idiocy
Regular people are sleeping
Take a look who’s behind the kit,
he’s not our regular drummer;
Make no mistake he’s taken a life,
with that jackknife to a pounding heart;
So notorious, his beat’s ferocious.
He’s ransacked an alley and the bar,
on tour he remains midnight’s shadow;
Take a look you have seen him before,
in the corner of a club poster;
So ferocious, his beat’s notorious.
Bouncing from one band to another,
the cymbalist committing vile crimes;
Don’t try to memorize his face,
he has mastered immortal glamour;
Bloody scrumptious, a bit dangerous;
He’s not our regular drummer.
A regular day
We read, with amusement, that Facebook is set free
Mark, our erstwhile friend, has seen the light
Not spending money on fast-checkers, more kudos to him
Is he sincere
For now, this is of scant interest, the wind blows hard, rattles the window, and demands to be let inside.
Hollers, you were glad for the summer breeze
So, what is wrong now
How do explain, to the wind it is a matter of knowing when the climate for change is right?
The wind is not willing to give up, asks what about
X, a rude and opinionated site; well, you see
The world fears economic power can strike like Typhon and flood our land.
A French shrug to that thinks an opinion is free
For all words are like the wind blows today, but
Will be quiet comes next day
Today is just a day
Just a regular day
Nothing special
Nothing going on
My mind is running
It's going in circles
Trying to find peace
As I write my words down
Memories flood my brain
Both good and bad
I ponder why things
Were the way they were
Did she know what she was doing
Did it ever enter her brain
Did she know it was torment
My tears fell down like rain
So I was just thinking
Trying to pass the day away
Today is just a day
Just a regular day
Wednesday
1-04-23
9:54 am
Cleanse your colon
the future of poetry demands,
and this is just the place for it.
Backed-up words = writers block.
Void the unavoidable,
eliminate the congested
proud and loud.
Fear not the mess
white pages and toilet paper
so similar
Write on with a lax and easy grace
to the next vocalized movement,
your next creative peristalsis.
When my walls I face
Or round my room pace,
My gaze windows meet
And my two eyes greet …
The same as all doors
But stigma do bear;
Better on all fours
In my finest wear
Through all types of doors
And face foes’ teeth and claws
Than through a window
Asking Barking Bingo!
On the spot ‘Burglar’
After valuable,
Save Room’s Regular
And it thinkable:
One’s door key mislaid;
Dodging The Not-Paid …
Windows then Garlic
Doors, Alcoholic;
Not of the same smell,
One your doom could spell.
J-ust
E-agerly
I-mplement
A-nother
N-ew
N-ormal's
E-nvironment
A-s
R-egular
H-ygiene
J-ust
A-bates
E-ach
E-erie
R-isk's
M-orbidity
I-n
T-his
A-rea
Topic: Birthday of Jeianne Arhjae N. Ermita (June 11)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Hortense Halle was a regular hoot
She bought herself a new cottontail suit
Hula hoop earrings
A pair of pink wings
She never did fly ~ but boy, was she cute
Reaching
Each
Goal
Unsuccessfully
Learning
Adapting and
Reading
Over
Lines
Doubling my
Mistakes
Each Time
Sleepless nights
And over thinking
Fear of failure
And my mind sinking
To wait or go get it
To stay or to move on
It's a everyday dilemma
Even when I think it's gone
On some days,
I like to take myself on a walk
With a blank mind,
Putting thoughts under lock
Just to look around
Observing things of every sort
And appreciating
All that I've got
To feel the wind hitting my face, / breathing in fresh air
& trying to understand this phase,
To make myself work towards
Feeling so positive on regular days
Satisfied in no satisfactory way
I eat my dreaded shredded wheat.
Ugh.
An everyday food bringing me no joy.
A pattern I have fallen into at breakfast
Reminding me of mundane things
Bringing a mean dose of regular into my life.
While I dream of pancakes with syrup
and whipped cream, slathered in bananas
with a dollop of pudding.
Those days long gone,
When I could eat whatever
I wanted, and not suffer.
I used to be something special
But now I'm just a regular Joe
I used to be able to carry a tune
But now my gravely voice is too low
I used to be able to dance a jig
I could even do a doe see doe
But now arthritis has hobbled me some
So now I'm just a regular Joe
I used to be something special
With all that long curly brown hair
Now when I give that mirror a gaze
I can see there isn't much up there
I can't sing, dance or grace a mirror
But I heard you reap what you sow
I earned what I got, special or not
I'd rather be a regular Joe
Sometimes I meet people not even meeting them
When I like what they say
And then I really feel there are things above poetry
Which I love with my honest heart
I will be checking for spelling, grammar, hair style, and regular flossing
Mostly I do it all the time as I love good word but also good
Look
at
My poetry
27.08.2016
They say it's a regular show,
When the ground starts to snow,
And the flowers take a bow.
They say it'll be over before I know,
Just when everything became white and aglow.
I bury myself in a place deep below,
Crush the seeds of spring they sow,
Near limpid waters that swiftly flow.
Of all the things I know not how,
To make it last forever yet I vow.
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