Short Estrange Poems

On  life's blaming ranges, of word exchanges 
One view I have, let in be known.'
That the guiltiest; throw the heavier stones.'...

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I    must estrange
myself from the world
I know    I must

Even from you
my love    I must
estrange myself

But how to wring
this twofold feat
from    me

I know    I must
estrange myself
from    me...

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What am I missing ? 
When did It Change? 
Where was I ? 
Who became estrange? 

Out of Love? 
Could it Be? 
Maybe unhappy ? 
To what degree ? 

Laughs gone ? 
Love diminished? 
Trust disappeared? 
Year's finished?...

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Feel free
To be
To see
Fond spree


Go out
To shout
To route
Purge pout


Wear wit
To fit
To hit
Wise bits


Dare strange
To range
To change
Estrange


Live well
To tell
To dwell
Cast spell


Warm mood
To good
To food
Crisp wood




Leon Enriquez
26 June 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT...

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Make a change
And you shall no longer
Feel so estrange.
Always believe you can,
For every time something ended,
You always have began anew.

Make a change for once,
And see to it nothing ever again
Leaves you feeling so derange.
Believe me and trust,
You can do whatever it is you must,
And remember, never give up....

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Eyes, two fiery rays of hope 
In a sky sealed in a blue envelope.
Alone he watches the world change,
The world and he estrange.
Listen, the wind carries whispers away,
Clouds cover the day in grey, 
The emptiness glistens in the rain
Sigh. How many days still remain?
Till I can see your smile, tell me when
Will, the warmth return, the sun rise again?...

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Colour isn’t the same at the early dusk
It changes in different light
A smile doesn't shine on the same mask 
When its fading out of sight
Who knows why memory can change
The pictures of the past, well-known
Friends turn out and estrange
Strangers I welcome to my home
Why should it go this way or that
In the microclimate of the soul
As if it hadn't been done and said
By anyone awhile ago.

...

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Questions are piling up,
we part ways in just a snap. 
Blame is on my head,
while I lay in this tiny bed.
Still keeping you a space,
as I focused you in my gaze.
But you just walked through,
whilst I restrain myself to pursue. 
Why the sudden change? 
Why the need to estrange? 
Where did the jokes went? 
Now I write to express lament. 
Maybe it's time to burn this bridge,
Oh heartbreak is such a ....

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When it gets too comfy,
As a vagabond.
When you can't find your niche,
And you need to belong.
There's no place like home.
And you just cant return.
When the hunt is lost,
Destination en route,
Halts excruciating,
Foundations removed,
No place like home,
Stranded to brood.
When beloveds estrange,
And Strangers invade.
'too soon' trivializes,
And tidbits remain.
No place like home,
No place less sane....

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by Mark Miller 12/30/2017

Traveler starlight dusts 
Our color emotion departed
Ever within never dissident  
Below sordid toss assortment 
Blooms circuit substance 

Our obsessive privy throws  
Living symptom circular gaze
Before myopic oceans deep gray
Grasping worlds structure foray
By shipwrecked days estrange

In homes left untouched the many
For whom history appoints
The fill of sentry tales 
Holds purpose tenants void...

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Any proposal to change
they vehemently object;
probably they felt estrange
resort to steps with suspect.

Any change requires courage.
With no change, they stop to grow;
forget the fact change may bring
good to them in everything.
Are they living, if don't grow?

Thought of change be encouraged.
Fight to resist proposed change
comes from the fear of unknown,
to avoid to rearrange,
to step out of comfort zone.
~x~x~x~
...

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There was a man the world wanted to change

Whose heart was filled with a terrible rage

For every effort he made

Pain enforced with his pen's blade

In the end managed all friends to estrange!*







(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
        29 June 2016



10-10-7-7-10


*Observing the war of words that is unleashed within our poetic family I beg all involved
parties to declare a truce and let peace and love reign in our hearts. God bless you all!...

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Squeeze Play


The sun and the moon.
They play their tune.
As we dance along.
Thinking we know the song.

But the rhythm changes.
As the days estrange us.
We try to keep time.
With what's left to rhyme.

Our senses pay expenses.
With heart felt defenses.
Not knowing the cost.
Of what's left and what's lost.

Hope and faith get's misconstrued.
When good intentions become crude.
And we are left with nothing to say.
As life works out it's last squeeze play.
...

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