Pay attention to the beats and drums of those who've won
and lost the war on simple thoughts.
They think not
of a thing simplistically complex.
From this and to that
can we tug our hearts
at the thoughts we must bare
at the sounds we must hear
from the sights we must swear
that beyond our senses and screens
so far that we’d not mistake bombs for thumps of fallen trees
and gunshots on New Years Eve
or violence as but a slight squeeze...
Stop taking.
just take a minute to stay still.
A calm mind is what I crave.
The very bliss of life.
Although with out thought there is mistake.
To much thought and your mind goes blank.
Where is the middle the simple proses of thought.
A thought followed by a black nothing.
With The preparation to eliminate rushing.
Enough to be prepared.
Not to much,
But just enough So as not to be scared.
The hope for simplistically.
A human ambition, to common we beg for it optimistically.
Freedom of thought and speech.
But to control it you must first learn to swim against the current at the beach.
Easier said then done, action and evidence shown to be absent In the face of fear words seem to dissolve your point becomes unclear.
Words caught in thought, It's a dangerous game.
Don't think to much about what I have said you’re still trapped in this never ending game.
Overthink it and you might drown in the rain.
The epitome of greed is most simplistically the act of wanting
And a warning of abhorrent flaunting requires urgency to heed
You may wish not to concede, as your morality can be haunting
If you let it overshadow the daunting legitimacy of need
The woman wrote unapologetically
of who she was, and
what she longed for
Told us how she saw life
expressing joy from her being
down deep in her soul
from her soul, I tell you!
The woman wrote passionately
about who she was, and
what she longed for
Made us appreciate the nuances
of every chosen word
bubbling up like cool water
in the heat of the day, I tell you!
The woman wrote simplistically
about who she was, and
what she longed for
Gave us those simple words
that tell a simple truth
from her innermost being
never another like her, I tell you!
written December 2, 2021
Haunted by its simplistically,
All the masses work for nothing,
Power drones I watch the meek alone.
Bare white the afterglow.
Power of blackened glass reaching for the zenith.
To touch the face of creation.
The masses must toil as I do in this Leviathan.
A Silicon made oblivion.
Thump and hum,
Cold white light in these aged eyes,
Once sky blue now blind in my inner mind.
Now only the passing stare she dares,
I hear the data in the cathode-ray tubes scream,
Cold is this light, I watch it fall in oblique patterns.
On the pavement of a city ordered in chaos.
I feel this thump and hum deep in my soul.
The shadow hangs there,
I see rays of an abandoned SON…
TO BE CONTINUED...
blank space, blank space,
enter.?
no feelings or words must enter, ?
the path is plain, simplistically paved,?
yet I, am overwhelmed, with anger.?
distrust, confusion and ing losers like you can,?
leave my life in a hour,?
but the thought will remain and linger with pain, until I fuel my fury with power.?
-
spiritual pain is a growing way,?
defining your strength and truth,?
don't be shy to throw away i?,
and replace yourself in the roots.?
feel less, no more, feel more to show and the world who doesn't... ?
for my pain is a catalyst for my sweet desires to manifest and beauty and forgiveness in whole.?
finding myself
a discovery unto
itself thinking
simplistically
yet knowing
lately not
being
able
to sleep finding
my mind is unto
itself on another
shelf in some
other sort
of library
to be
read
i need not page
through herbal
lore but simply
go from my
front door
taking me
to my
back
yard where bullfrogs
eat unwary fairies
grows a sleepy
herb a plenty
and if any
weren't
so ap
ropos
i'd sip from the lips
both above and
below witness
to this that
her chalice
is my grail
foretold
in tale
that the drink not
be monthly but
everyday i can
consumpt
concept
ually
her
to
me
He’s beautiful.
Laying across from me,
Eyes a confused green.
I know his skin is soft
Because in one moment,
He placed a coin in my palm,
And I had the
Overwhelming desire
To run my fingers
Through his hair and
I know
I can’t help myself
My hopeless romantic
Tendencies have
Taken ahold of me.
And him, he’s just
Simplistically hopeful
And so am I.
I can see the good in him
And he sees the good in me.
And I think,
I don't know but I want to
I think
Hidden in the dark,
We could outshine the
Stars.
Blonde, blue is what I see
Running around along the trees.
Essences of life with all of its wonder
The brightest lights in a world of somber.
A question to an answer I didn’t see before
With love, jubilation and what I adore.
How simplistically put, but which is true
My picturesque dreams, of blonde and blue.
You might think this is a trail of weakness from my mind
A systematic defeat crawling on lines.
I just have this feeling that it is me versus this gigantic world
Breathing heavily from exhausted hope and delicate foretolds.
Just sitting silently knowing not to be self centered
When everyday passes like an empty no other
Endeavor to keep climbing since my path is called “strife”
This great divide from happiness and clarity of life
Its easy to become familiar with telling people how to’s and self aware
When simplistically we are all unable to believe our own affairs
Why can’t I just feel away this struggle, this defenseless heap
I’m jealous beyond thought that you’ve found a way, a faith to leap
Just patiently sitting here, silence to the bold.
Silence is the great divide.
Burning breakfast bun
See how my creation’s spun
No clip in my gun
Punches in the gut
Crazy ramblings from the nut
Obscure subtle cut
A simple song sung
Reader’s noses often stung
Drippings of my tongue
Write out of the rut
Poetic lunatic’s strut
Burning bamboo hut
Tradition undone
Words simplistically spun
Now my rhyme is done
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.