Short Sorting Poems

Going to Utah
In busy sorting center
Fallen on the floor...

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In this moment deep in thought sorting all the wrongs from rights- while holding back the tears...

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Setting ground rules
Mind tabulates
Sorting rocks from emeralds
One day the sky breaks-
Tabula rasa!...

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''In life, sorting out, envisioning it, chooseth, trust to plan, what needeth to glide --to an exact plan guide.''...

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To have loved and lost
are a heaven and a hell;
and the place between
is their own purgatory,
a limbo of sorting out....

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Separation is

A vital 

Appearance 

So that a story

Can be told 

With time and

Space sorting a

Breaking Story......

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Brains beam back connections as dreams
While sorting much data in streams
But these mind fables
Come with graphic labels
Like symbols in Microsoft Teams...

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Think I had long yet to try something new,
So puzzles, jazz, and blues will have to do.
I go about sorting pieces by each of their own hue,
In hopes of solving before I tend to what’s due....

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Diversity

Diversity
Colorful, plentiful
Varying, growing, beaming
Composed of many and never the same
Multiplying, arranging, sorting
Mixture, combo
Array

10/9/16...

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I know so little--
and that was my
first introduction 
to knowing;
I feel so much--
and that was
my first sorting
into loving;
I forgave myself
and others--
and that is
my pass
into heaven....

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Fireflies of lies souring high, where pristine truth couldn't follow nigh
Like stupid ant sorting out, sand and sugar in just a kiss
I caught fireflies amid fallen leaves, blowing for fire of truth....

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A farmer sowed a field with good seeds,
but an enemy spoiled it with weeds.
   “Together they must grow
   till it is time for to mow,
sorting the grain from fruits of misdeeds.”

Matthew 13.24-30...

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Pirate Bart just made a good haul
 Celebrated with a big brawl
 Then pulled in to port
 His loot for to sort
  And then he made a booty call!

 4-9-19
 Pirate Themed Limerick Contest
 Sponsor: Tania Kitchin...

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How I spend me time
And labored, night and day
Weeding, fertilizing
Sorting heather, from the hay
Breaking soil wit me plow
Greeting daybreak with me pen
Then capture morning light
As I write with Rose again...

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Roof we perhaps ignore
is a patient secret listener
hearing laughter and insults
silently doing her things
recording, sorting, tallying
never letting cats out of bags
when storm invites her to go
she flies with all data...

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Sorting through the pieces
That I am trying to pick up

Of a life tattered and torn.

The pieces are so small to see
Sometimes I wonder is it enough.

Picking up the pieces is always hard to do
Especially when I am looking for you....

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I’m something like Superman
you know, one of a kind
the way I write
wielding my pen
dissecting all my rhymes

Flowing through the stanzas, verses
riding waves of rhythmic lines

Sorting through my abstract thoughts
weathering my mind...

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Going through the house
gathering up the spent ones.
Sorting into piles, all alike,
they go in one at a time.
Washed and rinsed clean.
Then dried and fluffed
until baby bum soft.
What I want to know...
Is why does...
The dryer eat the socks?...

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In the winter the wolves arrive.
And this slow mutation made our eye-lids heavy
As the Hands of April
Built the wolves a love affair.
The Animal World deemed to shift and shuffle.
And you were here in the meadow the whole time.
Sorting through me....

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Greetings Good People !!!
Have been sorting small drawings,
Creating music and recordings.
So if you'd like to know a little more of me,
Much much welcome,
Paris-Maree <3

P.S Click the link =D

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsRi47KtCjk&t=18s...

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Shh said the Tallywacker agent
this new baby needs a place to think
we dream mongers and sand throwers tiptoed out
understanding the need for baby to clear his mind
sorting out his past two or three lifetimes
in order to fully enjoy this incarnation...

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Love and loss are a heaven and a hell;
     a purgatory and limbo, a place
of sorting out: a place where lovers fell;
     and entered a reflective, lonely space,
a realm that's not a lover's citadel,
     but still a place where souls may yet embrace....

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sweet compassion
surrounds
my
heart of uncertainty

patiently flavoring
my
vision of life

sorting
fiction from truth

trusting
everyday Angels
leading
me forward
across
parched deserts
of
discovery

believing
believing...

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Men would rave,
we have invented a machine,
to be our slave.

Sorting, processing and retrieving,
with inventory and payroll functions,
all tasks beyond believing.

In the end, we have to say,  
multiplying work for the master,
the computer has had it's way....

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So near and so far 
you live together 
sorting through the detritus of life.

        *

The erosion 
sends back the gravel, 
the sand and silt of human script.

        *

The violence, 
will it end someday ? Asks 
a child playing with a time bomb.


Satish Verma...

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