Short Rythme Poems

Struggle is a rythme we dance to
Never be a pushover they run through
Rather be a protector they run to

You've got to be strong to move mountains
Be strong enough to worth something
Live will leave no handouts
Better snatch yours and run out....

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My heart beat is in rythme with yours,
If you cut off the blood flow, your vision will get blurred,
Love is a powerful thing, yes indeed!,
When you cut the cord, it gets harder to see,
We we're not meant to be alone,
We are connected for our hearts to grow,
Your heart beat is in rythme with mine,
Don't allow the fears of this world to cover your eyes....

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I sit here listening to my son play the guitar,
It sounds so good ,so good so far,
He starts to play along them strings,
And then you hear him start to sing,
Keep that rythme and keep it strong,
Remember the words of this song,
He trys  to get it and get it right,
Hes always playing night after night,
I hope he can make it to the top,
Either way he makes me feel proud of what i got,...

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Sometimes life can seem like quicksand.
Without the band.
It is a journey unplanned.
Uncharted the road 

Struggling without direction.
Loses all protection.
It plummets one in deep reflection.
Down to the bottom.

From decades ago a hand reaches out.
Help is there no doubt.
Hope inspires your joy to shout.
Love rescues!

Tail-Rythme poetry contest
Sponsored by Emile Piney
8/15/20:$...

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Les fleurs, frissonnent et se fanent
et les feuilles brisées salissent la terre 
tordu et froid - plane au rythme durent
comme des visages rompus, emprisonné d’une peinture

Et tes yeux noirs brûlent 
comme le brouillard de ce soir
dans le ventre du chaudron ignoble
enlaidi par les marteaux de Hephaestus (le magnifique), qui serre
le charbon, qu'appelles-tu tes yeux - les diamants transpercent....

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Today I saw The Zunzuncito 
for the very first time,
For such a tiny bird
I write this little rythme.

The smallest bird in the world,
The fly bird, bee bird, elf.
Has brought me a little joy
Deep within myself.

Species of the hummingbird 
Wingspans near inch or two,
For all the teeny-weeny aves
Excites me so I woo…

The Zunzuncito  we are blessed to have 
In this amazing world we share,
Another beauty from our God
So delicate and rare....

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he wears a leather jacket
with buttons lost their shine
and rolling stones, jimi hendrix
kool and the gang
but he can't sing them
no more
oh, baby
no more.

scabby fingers
chipped away
by taut chords
now slack
no longer
quick
or 
any rythme
to 
them.

and he can't
make music like he used to
any more nor
thrust his hips
so throws his guitar
around his neck
kicks the stool
and waits
for the notes
to 
spring
oh, baby, how he sings....

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