Vanishing Poems

Vanishing Point

I used to be
an enthusiastic lad
an energetic gad
about town
but time and tide
let me down
can't do the things
I used to do
who knew
it would come to this
with aches pains
spasms and strains
I'm running out of steam
it seems or so I've found
soon they'll plant me
in the happy hunting ground
with no midnight oil
or candle ends left to burn
then at last

Save vanishing species

The save vanishing species USPS stamp -
featuring an Amur tiger cub graphic
-----------------------------------------------
Hillborn river, gentle Amur flows east
Embracing enroute a score of besties
Enriching diverse lives, some so unique
She sways towards the ocean Pacific

Warm orange bright Siberian tigers
Left in cold, threatened, dispossessed drifters
Settle along serene flowing Amur
Takes her name, huddle along her, survive

Sad eyes with Blake's immortal

Magical Vanishing Memory Machine

Beneath a drop cloth
in the back of the mind
hums a machine—
gears oiled with old lullabies
and levers etched in looping script
you almost remember learning.
Turn the crank and out drifts a smell--
maybe floral, maybe musty, 
maybe something like
your grandmother’s books
just before snow.

Sometimes it spits out
something that never happened—
like a birthday party in a treehouse
you never had—
still, you

Vanishing Point

Vanishing Point

It's Easy To See
How The Future
Appears...

Because...
From There You're
Looking Into The:

Past.

-Gray Squirrel

06-01-2025

Shadow

Oh ,my dearest and love some sibling shadow, listen,                                 Are you still staying and living in my beloved soul ?,   

Evanescence

Nested in the cat’s cradle
Paraded in a child’s fable         
I have no voice, don’t let me die
No longer shall I live a lie
I have no soul nor thoughts to save
Unbeknownst to me is
this life beyond the grave?
A designer dainty as she
silky essence she creeps upon so free
and

The Vanishing Shore

Peace is the tide that never stays,
rolling in soft whispers, retreating in sighs,
touching the feet of the weary,
only to slip away before they can rest.

It lingers in the hush before a storm,
a breath between heartbeats,
a weightless second where nothing pulls—
then the world stirs, and it is gone.

We chase it in quiet rooms,
in hands we dare

Vanishing Ink

Memories flutter like Post-It notes,   
   with scribbles faint and worn.
Reminders fade in the winds they’ve made,
   my pages are tattered and torn.
Notes twist and swirl, then dip and curl, 
   in a wild and frantic breeze.
A cyclone spins where thoughts have been,
   scattering all

A Vanishing Sight

On a winter evening,
along a lonely country road
I rode my bicycle and saw,
far ahead, a young couple
dressed in traditional 
ceremonial clothes. 

The setting sun cast it's light
as they crossed the wide paddy field,
brown with stubble,
quiet and still 

May be they were returning home
from a religious ceremony,
a beautiful moment
I know will never happen again
in my life

The vanishing Olive trees of Puglia

Ongoing rows of trees 
branches reaching binding 
crawling braiding trunks of 
olive trees capturing my senses 
warm breeze glides down my 
spine the ripened forestry handfuls 
delightful ripeness historic scenery 
as I mastered the monopoli landings 
the essence of extra virgin oils pour 
to perfection stored in tins we carry 
them between the lemon zest

Imprint Vanishing

feet displacing sand 
water filling up the space
imprint vanishing
 

Vanishing Point

In the distance, a line disappears
Where sky and earth converge, through tears
A point of no return, yet we're drawn near
To the edge of what's known, and what's held dear

Memories fade like footprints in sand
As we chase the horizon, hand in hand
With every step, a piece of us slips away
Into the vanishing point, where love and

Vanishing Point

In my portrait of life   the
    palette began in pigments
of blue, red and yellow,
         but with each stroke,
my horizons slowly dissolved   into
  mustard, muddy brown 
and burnt orange.

Not everything you portray 
    upon a canvas is

Vanishing point

Feeling a little cross
I gave out to god
For piling different shapes 
upon my hod
To think, we never had 
any future plan 
So made one up
with the home insurance man 

Anyway, I'm covered 
for a sudden leak
But excess is high
and outlook pretty bleak 
With water damage 
undermining my eyes
Canopies atop
fail to keep me baptised 

In a

Vanishing Point

When the sky mimics an illusory highway,  
  camouflaged in colors of confusion,  
    crowded with contrasts of chaos,  
I stand stranded    at the crossroads,  
   draped in   distorted resolutions,  
   soaked in   pixelated perspectives,

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