Short Paying Attention Poems

paying attention
the warmest most loving eyes
can conjure full truth...

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No flies on Doo-Doo

If your not paying attention

And accidentally step in it...

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Cold down to the bone. 
I hear the winter in the wind.
I walk on ice 
and breathe in snowflakes....

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As the morning sun 
Shone its warm light 
on the cold, green grass, wet with dew
It shimmered like diamonds
And I thought to myself,
It is a beautiful moment 
To be paying attention.  

Kale Brereton
Sept 8/18...

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bird
watching
a couple
embracing life
in the magick of love and their closeness

wonders why they're not paying attention
to his flustered 
squawks and stomps
because
he

is 
alone
and not with
his own true love
he is a pigeon on a soul mission...

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I'm still posting crappy flow then going back and showing my mojo. You people know I've been playing this game. To see who's paying attention. How soon you forget. When there's a new game to play. Oh lord. What else can I say. I guess I have to play a new game....

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a sunshine
warms your ankle

occasionally blowed by the wind
the linden’s flowers cools you up
and you’re smiling

I can barely breath 
I have a peep at you ironing my shirt
paying attention to every detail
caressing and looking it dearly

like you are ironing it on me...

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How can one be their self,
It takes a clear example,
If ones paying attention to others,
Then it's to sample,
It's like saying you're not important,
So be important today!
Start with finding peace alone and away,
Distractions can lead but not interpret,
So whats up doc,
Bugs bunny while they derpin...

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I had forever
   then unexpectedly
   the clock stopped.
The ticking had slowed
   when I wasn't paying attention
   and the tocks between were longer than before.
Breath waned after a miss, a slip and faltering
  and heartbeat, once loud and pounding with strength
  ceased - still and silent
and forever was gone....

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not paying attention
not caring a damn
now he's in detention 
in Spokanistan
by just doing nothing
he went way too far
out huffing and a puffing
on a faraway star
it's a manner of thinking
that he did do
he flew away drinking 
a forgetful brew
he forgot all his money
in the trash can
he left his kissin honey
in Spokanistan...

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Who is that sad person in the window?
the one with the purplish hair?
The one who has sat there for hours
with a deeply dark sad empty stare?
You better get up and start living
 as life will not always be there
if you don't start paying attention
no one who knows you will care







*sing to the tune of doggie in the window*...

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I am sure Interstate 94 is on that map!
My husband is getting impatient now.
I have been telling him for an hour.
I am not good at reading maps.
He is finally paying attention.
“It is NOT ON HERE!” I yell.
He finally pulls off at an exit.
“This is an Indiana map! We are in Michigan!”
That would explain my confusion for the last hour....

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When I start to write,
I scribble what's on my mind.

Sometimes I have no idea what my pen puts on paper,
But in the end it all comes together.

I can be paying attention in class,
But when a rhyme pops in my head, school work comes last.

Right now, writing is something I love to do.
Who knows, maybe one day I'll fall in love with something new....

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I caught that look in your eyes
you thought I didn't see
but I was paying attention
to all those subtleties

you hold me at arms length
and keep your feelings in check
I think it's a contradiction
that you're less than direct

I'm standing at the station
this train is about to leave
give me something to hang on to
other than what's perceived...

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L-isten to the voice above, 
E-arly in the morning light; 
R-oaring devil is warned, 
M-ay fourth sets things
A-right.

G-od's voice is loud, 
A-s it is also clear; 
R-emain paying attention, 
C-all from Him, you must hear.
I-n this wild wicked world, abound in faith, hope, and love; 
A-llow not your ears to turn deaf, listen to the voice above....

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I took it all for granted. 
The sky, the stars, the wind, 
the flowers, the grass, the trees.

I expected to see my friends every day.
It was boring, dull, 
humdrum, if you please.

So here I am, in my mediocre mind-set, 
walking to a friends’ house, not enjoying a breeze.
Not paying attention to the sky, the wind, the flowers, 
the grass or the trees....

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Sometimes
 the only true God
Gives birth to angels
Here on earth
His way of
Letting us know
That there is
 another plane
higher than ours
That he wants us
to touch with our
human hands
And experience beauty
beyond our realm
of understanding
To give hope to us
who are paying attention
That glory awaits
to those who seek him
in unconventional ways...

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Seeing through the red filter
the sun reflecting on his
iris....
Viewing details through a 
magnifying glass...
A microscope..
A jeweler forges his metal
Sets his stone.
Paying attention to detail
he etches every little hair,
every little speck.
Observing nature's moods,
shifts,changes,he records+
draws in his journal his 
discoveries for this new
Season....

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one by one days pass
                                                     another year is ending
                                                       regret fills my soul
                                                     for days I let slip away
                                                    without paying attention



12/17/11  For Rick Parise's 5 - 8 line poetry contest....

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I can imagine laying under the stars with you
As we listen to the waves crash by the seaside
The moonlight glistening in your eyes catches my own
We're saying things like our favorite ice cream and life dreams
I'm paying attention to you as I should, sitting still as stone
Just listening, hoping one day in your heart I can reside
And fulfill you with a love that is strong and true...

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you are watching
paying attention
is that how it is done

start with a kiss
working your way down
will her screams fill the air

in a dark room
seeing with your hands
can you find the right spot

licking flicking
articulate tongue
will a word be spoken 

moaning loudly 
fire deep inside
is his hose long enough

bending backwards
gymnastic marvel
will she earn perfect 10...

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She was just sitting there, not paying attention.
A sitting duck? I guessed.
She glared at me.
Can I please finish the story?
I knew then I was in for a pouty evening.
So I was quiet.
As long as I could be.
A sitting duck? I guessed again.
I had seen the photo on social media.
She has not spoken to me since.
Angry that I know what she has for breakfast
And what color panties she has on…....

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Fistful of released,
Coins in the raining,
Beautiful tone,
Striking the wooden counter.
Twisting in turns standing.
Heads or tail,
Will be the end of enteraining.
Closely in paying attention to what is being spoken,
In the box step of the spin,
Amuzed in meaningless.
What fascination in drifting.
Matter beyond what,
Only enjoying a measureful spoon of time from the parallel of this world....

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When youth fades to a crumbling age
bones become telephones.
for minds to answer.
No diel-up tones,
you are directly plugged into
its skeletal language
of cracked joints and rusted nails.
Those crumbling bones
have to call you up day and night,
just to make sure
you are still listening,
still paying attention
to the way nature
has faithfully kept its promise
to you
of a guaranteed shelf-life....

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Poems tend to invite themselves to my mind
When I’m supposed to be doing other things
Like homework, driving, or paying attention in class
My creativity flourishes 
The need to write consumes me
I can't let the perfect palabras
Waste away simply because I'm on the clock
My inner poetess would be pissed
I must give in to her and these poems
They are the only things keeping me sane
In this dry, monotonous routine...

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