Morning fever from a sleepless night
Soring eyes against the light
Throat that sores from barking strong
The yesterdays out in a song
Here I stand I feel the heat
That tries to surge my deep heartbeat
While prying eyes try to intrude
Them who are rough and crude
April 18, 2023, PST, SPC
Categories:
soring, morning,
Form: Rhyme
A Common Starling
Ah!
Such rare birds
They live unprotected by those who say that they would stand with them
Poor little black birds
They don't survive for long
The mamas pray
For a brighter day
As their young go out into this world
Praying that they will live
Something that seems to get harder and harder to do
As the years go on
Endangered by the hawks soring among them
Poor little black birds
I hope you can make it in this cruel and evil world
Where all they do is shoot you down when you try to fly
Snatching you away from the sky
Poor little black birds
It gets harder for them to hide
Especially
From those that hate them most
Why do you hate me?
The little one bird asks
Maybe it's jealousy? Thought the little bird
Is it my luxurious plumage?
My glossy, metallic-like feathers?
Looking bitterly at the little ignorant bird
I tell him in a slow and cold voice
IT'S YOU!
Categories:
soring, animal, bird, evil, race,
Form: Personification
Sometimes I wonder,
What its like to be a bird.
Soring in the sky,
So very high,
Free as the wind carries,
Their small delicate bodies,
Away from the noise,
and the bright city lights.
Away from the thick air,
That they don't want to share,
With the creatures that assault,
Their beautiful large world.
As I squeeze past the crowds,
Blinded by the city lights,
I look up the the night sky,
And wonder what its like to fly.
Categories:
soring, beautiful, bird, city, earth,
Form: Free verse
Soring starting to peer through the ground,
Snowdrops and crocuses all around.
The silent sounds of spring,
What good weather God will bring.
The beautiful house standing tall,
An exquisite home for relatives all..
The gentle buds and white and purple blooms,
Sprouting as the snow thaws and looms.
What a delight to praise and view,
Seen by the passerby maybe just a few.
Winter is prevalent, the snowflakes caress the ground,
With intricate white snowflakes all around,.
Author:Gwen von Erlach Schutz
Categories:
soring, beautiful, god,
Form: Rhyme
Soring high, wings spread
Dashing in and out the clouds
Racing with the wind, unknown to the sun
She draws her name in the sky
Claiming ownership to it's beauty
Worries has never entered her
No fear is she seeing way up
Blessed are the birds
Singing a hearts love
Taking hold of life
Is her wings as she soars through the air.
Categories:
soring, beautiful, bird, blessing, creation,
Form: Free verse
Soring through the sky,
Spreading your wins,
Seeing the site,
In three dimensions,
The eye of an eagle,
Beautiful creatures they are,
The wing span they have,
Could cover you up,
Perching on a cliff,
Looking at the view,
A wonderous site,
A picture for you.....
Categories:
soring, animal, beautiful, bird, blessing,
Form: ABC
Yep, this summer is sooo nice -
Everything's running as in a race.
It's hot, you ask the nurse for ice
To cool off your wicked long-haired face.
Windows bear long water drop hues,
Quirky birds are soring in the sky.
Girls in special hospital shoes
Look as geese that are trying to fly.
Stillness and coolness, all is loose.
Emptiness is digesting my thoughts.
Nurses are putting gold August
In plastic droppers for later use
Recently visitors are rare,
There is cozyness of paths inside.
I feel the operation's scare -
They'll cut you off me and will hide.
Categories:
soring, seasons, summer,
Form: Lyric
Stranded on the road again
With a pack of cigarette and jar of wine
And a snoozed up box and a leaked tank
In a cold-desert known as end of the world
My heart scampers for a soul for help
With furriest echoes breaking the wind's voice
And the soring sky eclipsing the benumbed night
Stranded on the road like before
With a dead battery and a panicked gaze -
I watched my lazy jalopy as it relaxes by the road
side
Clad in smokes and grimes down to top
Its tyres are worn-out like my childhood
toothbrush
And its eyes are cracked and broken
Stranded on the road
Locked deep in superficial meditation
While I smoke away and get drunk
Passersby honk and zoomed by
Veering left to right from a potential casualty
Me! Whose pity will I win for a ride to my love?
I'm by the side waiting for sleep to possess me
Nay to the bed of death in whose comfort I might
find myself
Categories:
soring, journey,
Form: Free verse
The Difference My Life He Did Make
Precious are the memories which lift my soul
Soring to heights of remembered laughs
The joys having made eternal will always last
Good experiences for the lessons I did learn
This life of a man who shared in kind
For in his living day by day
This man helped me in showing the way
A way of living as a better husband father and man
A way of living that I might stand
To stand tall for family friendship and right
That from this day-forth his trodden path reflects light
Light to shine when worries I do care
Light to glow my path when in despair
I rejoice to know the difference my life he did make
In remembrance of my Father-In-Law
Poem by Mark A. Goodson (son-in-law)
10/26/2012
Categories:
soring, death, family, father, funeral,
Form: Couplet
Way up high
In the sky
That’s where we will be-will be
Soring there
In the air
Up above the clouds
You and I
Way up high
Where the birds fly
You are safe- safe with me
Soring there
Through the air
Sleep little one
Sweet dreams to thee
Categories:
soring, childhood, children, peace, song-
Form: Ballad
a loss of words on this morning of great deals
a mood so sound that it feels
my broken mind folding my impaired enralic
the ma is soring above the everlasting manilic
this making of this is quite modest
2 perfect emotions quar into each other deist
3 morning birds say i have won
4 moving trees stare at my path but can't trust not one
5 women cry from there hearts mend
6 mocking sticks with no end
7 dozen roses refuse too bend
8 reigning magician's stand for what is heartless
9 transing meaningless people forget there purpose
10 watching mar dons spiting there fatherhood
11 working men salvage there manhood
12 dancing fool make there point
1 man sits here without his words
where could THEY possibly be herd
Categories:
soring, passion, sad, visionary, words,
Form: Cinquain