Writing taught me plenty~
like how my thoughts, so many,
line up like rowdy schoolkids
when I give them half a chance.
It showed me words go dancing
when I stop over-glancing,
and sometimes trip spectacularly
while trying to look grand.
It proved my drafts are stubborn~
they mutter, Try again, hon,
but if I bribe them with some chocolate
they usually behave.
And most of all, it told me
my messy mind can hold me~
a slightly tilted universe
that still deserves the page.
You were the soothing wind to keep warm,
I was the hurricane, to only cause problems,
You were the moon, with whom people talk,
I was the Lily, nothing without your lights.
You were everything anyone could ever ask for,
I was a cobblestone, people stop over.
I was a book of blank pages, without the sprinkle of ink,
You were the book of beautiful words and completed, where my name wasn't, I think.
We're all travelers
On a journey
Different destination
Running our race
Some compete
Others according to their own pace.
We venture
Then go for adventure
Creating memories
curious for knowledge
breaking records
Creating history without misery.
Destiny as been written
Stop over thinking
Know your fate amidst chaos
There's always a source
Everywhere we go if we seek
God made everything so.
I'm at my stop over,
waiting on my next flight
I've been in my pain all the way over
And I have to wait on to continue through the night
My cheek is swollen,
Feels like I was stung
My whole jaw can't open
Having a hard time just to roll my tongue
And this is just a light stop
Over across the many years I've to live
While the one thing that never seems to stop
Is the constant worry of the life I'll have to live
Cause I can't plan too much
Cause my tomorrow isn't given
All I can do as a soldier is march
To keep going at war with my fears and worries till we even
For I need to get to the other side a victor
Walking head high even though the joints,
can't carry my win with me for life without Factor
Has had me beaten to the ground, losing my hope points
The PO£T
The to and fro
From pillar to post
The immortal forget the reason of the journey
Who will tell others the view of the journey?
All have eyes and ears
And later know road to life
All forget and pursuit the trade wind of vanity
Who can measure the number of life?
Some weigh it as on and off of breaths
Is not a race but a journey
Everyone is a traveler on a cosmic journey
Acting in stardust and dancing in the eddies of vanity
Everyone is here to pack and carry his luggage
We only have a stop-over to encounter
Each other and one another to love and share feelings
Be careful, life is a glimpse
That determines all destinations
showers of castanets
on a tin roof
a stop-over for the night
on the longest hike
a bushel of owls
in each drip of rain
aftershocks of mice nibbling through
the wires of a sleepless mind
listening
through ear shaped microphones
pigeons scrabble overhead
then clatter as they take off
the rain softens toward dawn
to a ten second splish
time to move on
Wake up put your gear on go out in the morning
Have a positive outlook break the habit no yawning
Don't be afraid to ask push yourself stop whining
Time waits for no man when the clock is thicking
Make things easy and say yes i can stop over thinking
Talk to people build a connection enjoy the simple thing
Remain calm don't get excited find a decent job
Come to work with clean energy don't be a slob
Have fun at work do as your told by manager bob
Eat well to live hit the gym workout plan cardio
Detox your body from poison dance it off rodeo
Inspire lead don't be a one hit wonder like coolio
Invest in your child's future save money
Do the right thing avoid trouble no phoney
In my estate with my wife and daughter never lonely
How could you pass by so eccentrically!
Didn’t you see me for even an instant?
Wearing the same evening gown you walked,
Adjacent to the car I was stuck!
I couldn’t believe my eyes,
How could it really be?
You were so apathetic,
You seemed walking to your own,
As if, it were a walk to the Moon!
No stop over, no curve, no care for to and fro,
It seemed like a goal was set fixed for you!
Just splashed once, and then walked straight in the rain.
Dad, you passed away ten years ago
No, it can neither be you, nor your shadow!
Dad, was it really you, or my imagination?
I called you back, but you were never seen again.
Still on my way the same daily,
I look for you again and again keenly
I don’t see you, neither your moon-walk,
Are you okay with your own, wherever you are?
Dad, its poor me, your forlorn daughter,
Don’t be so firm, please response ever!
From wherever you are! Just send me a smiley face once,
It will console my compassion, I’ll stay contented forever.
I see some sort of stairway in mid-air
Curious I approach the lonely stairs
They reach high enough that the darkness reigns
They are an indication of our lairs
There are homes at both sides of this stairway
A dark way up, it goes into darkness
The steps don’t go high but are still eerie
You must be crazy to reach the madness
Now I’m underneath the stairs that’s floating
I had to reach to catch the lowest step
I pull myself up, not knowing what’ll come
Slowly I feel the stairs move up with pep
They stop over a house not far from home
I ascend the stairs to battle darkness
I break the barrier of light to dark
Now I understand the purpose, to rest
To move to another realm that has hope
More than the dimension we live in now
Tremendous is the darkness, it has life
The steps are a blessing, others ask how
I take a little of the formed darkness
Love even has found its way deep inside
The stairs have brought life and love above all
Now I keep it all to heart, I abide
Russell Sivey
While taking a stop-over
my timepiece ticks . . .
meant to stand up already
to enable my entry to the aircraft.
It seems passengers abound
with their carry-on bags
Men and women alike
in a hurry to get inside.
Other gates seem busy too
calling passengers to board.
Some have problems to resolve
to get a seat and be part of the group.
The weather holds no promise at all
that those aircrafts can fly soon.
Rains and thunderstorms
threaten all kinds of transportation.
One, two, three . . . counting the time of waiting
no certainty as yet.
While everyone shows restlessness,
conversation via mobile phone takes place.
Some seem quiet and unperturbed
Some read, eat and chat with others.
It's a real experience, another episode
that describes procrastination
of any flight scheduled to take off.
white helium balloon
not quite taut
from summer heat and long ride
in the rental car
let fly
by a son
to picture a father
going to a better place
crowd of friends, family
circle round
watch the orb
rise ? just slightly
then hover
just overhead
string dangling forlornly
barely out of towhead's grasp
sad eyes turn to adults
unspoken comes the question, "Why?"
"Never one to leave a party early"
nods a bearded desert-rat
slowly the drooping symbol
wafts past onlookers
barely skimming yard, garden
comes to stop over newly-mown alfalfa field
Gravity persists
drops it slowly
string entwines
among the green stubble
a calloused hand finds
young boy's shoulder,
shaking, as tears fill
saddened brown eyes
"Heaven's whereever he most loved to be, son.
That'd be right here. His flight was short."
there is a path leading forward
my mind wanders
always back to you
stop looking back
stop over thinking
stop second guessing
take me for what I am
take me for what is here
take all that I offer
is it enough?
as the vine grows
wrapping around my heart
lead me forward
give me your truth
give me all you have
I’m always coming back
giving it all back
back to you
We live in the Patch, our own little town
Got a grocery store and three bars
We got a row of shanties, company owned
Ain’t got much space to park our cars
Yous guys got it made so don’t be complainin’
Workin’ out in all that sunshine
We gotta load 16 tons to make a livin’
Can’t breathe too good down in the mine.
We ain’t doin’ too bad from pay to pay
Barely make the bills and no damn more
Ernie was right when he sang that song
About owin’ our soul to the company store.
Got me a couple of kids and a good woman
Wednesday afternoon and Sundays I get some rest
Not much pay, but a honest days work
Livin’ in America, we sure are blessed.
Billy was hurt over in number eleven
Ain’t gonna make it in to work today
Gotta stop over and see him before I go in
Check on his kids, make sure they’re okay
Gotta get goin’ now, give me a hug
Gonna stop for a few on my way home too
Take Billy over some of your fried chicken
Ask Mary if there’s anything else we can do.
Livin’ in the Patch, not much changes
Got good neighbors and a place to lay your head
Work hard, play hard and damn proud of it
We sleep pretty good when we go to bed.
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