Short Sequels Poems

Callings in life

     Tales, stories unveiled

          Sequels or fictional?...

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If but my heart and mind
Could but merge as equals 
Through pain and sorrow 
Roles’ played as sequels...

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Out
of
focus-
impressions,
silhouettes and blurs.


Impression-Sunrise by Monet

http://www.webexhibits.org/colorart/monet.html

The first Impressionist painting...

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From the poorly buried pain,
sad flowers are born,
and from painful longing
can eternize the absent
love...
So, it doesn't terminate
a love left behind,
sans sequels... !...

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They're almost never as good
sort of like sloppy seconds.
But the industry loves them,
the brand is established and
the public flocks in greater numbers
to see what they know is coming.


12/15/2017...

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ACCESS DENIED

screeching of brakes
sequels then breaks
flickering lights…
on…off..on..off..
then it all turns
white
like peeling skin
screaming
access denied



© Kim van Breda—19 October 2015...

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Your love is...

My profound love for you 
is the decree of my heart;
For my affection for you 
is as delightful as 
a yearned kiss;
placed upon the lips in due season.
For your passionate voice opens
 the sequels of my heart;
And so gracefully blessed me with,
thee pillows of Grace.
For my heart rises 
On your heart beat; 
And sets;
in the heaven of your eyes!...

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my back against the wall
and my mind set 
i'll look back 
for the last time 
and go where 
the wind blow me 

i'm continued in life
like sequels in movies
my menu 
is priced
from what i been threw

the odds 
even
my place in this world
i was locked down in my 
heart and mind
now release 
i'm reaping all the 
success i can find 

what a relieve 
to be the cheif 
of my own
life line...

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Silk, the rose passed gently along my ache
where long dormant senses wake
every move you make  most incredible
as whispered eyes move close to rest

Pain, you have lain too long 
through the recesses of my time 

Rewind, I have taken back my mind
as fingers glide towards the spine
worn down pages flipped over and
the hunger fades the blues

No sequels written, it is as if ...
satin slides the night
touches wont ignite...

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This poem has yet to finish.
It's barely past the start.
It hasn't any followers
and isn't yet an art.

The subject is not written:
direction not quite clear.
My reason for it's being
is only what is here.

The length is getting longer
with nothing more to say.
Without a proper ending
it just might run astray.

I'll say my final thoughts
in hopes they'll bring an end.
But really; who'm I kidding,
a sequels 'round the bend....

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