Home » Poems » Best » Shane Rundle » Best Shane Rundle Poems

Best Poems Written by Shane Rundle

Below are the all-time best Shane Rundle poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

Static Perseverance

All he can see is at the end of a pencil,
Sedated by a 3 inch piece of lead,
Self-portraits are of only a stencil,
A picture stains the paintings in his head,

How far does the land go beyond the window?
Far enough to see the end of the day.
And does the bird fly as far as the wind blows?
Far enough to find a warm nest to lay.

Her ears scorched by the sound of scorn,
Laughter tears and turns tears to her eyes,
Bows to down into the form as to which she was born,
And dreams of dissolving into a dawning sky,

How numb I have become only known by numeric?
Taught only in the trenches of comparison.
How cold the hand grows held up in hysteric?
Endure and you’ll ensure your end, my son.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

We Believe

We never thought, Life could be this easy,
Cooking up variety, like we’re making jalfrezi,
Smoking clouds the mind and harrows the heart,
Prevention is the cure, so in the end; don't start.

‘Cause we believe in no scag days, in no scag days,
Free yourself from the haze, from the haze,
Radiants of sound are all around,
Fills up the heart, can you hear it pound?
‘Cause we believe in no scag days..In no scag days

We always thought, life was in ecstasy,
But the pills will instill, the lies that you see,
We were only looking out for the soul,
And inside there is no doubt, you can be whole,

‘Cause we believe in no scag days, in no scag days,
Free yourself from the maze, from the maze,
Glimmers of light shine in the skies,
Wide open lands, come before your eyes,
‘Cause we believe in no scag days..In no scag days

We lost a thought, last night wasn’t me,
Whisky was the boat and every bar the sea,
What you forget from the drink, control what you think,
Body, Spirit and Mind, no need to break the link,

‘Cause we believe in no scag days, in no scag days,
Free yourself from the craze, from the craze,
As droplets of love, come from above,
Season the skin, like a feather on a dove,
‘Cause we believe in no scag days..In no scag days

And so, we march mindlessly on, searching for a soul which gradually unfolds. So stop, look inside, find love, and you’ll understand all of the above.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

Still River

I sit and store the lights once more,
On a river which remains forever still,
A reflection of my self stands before,
The fragile question of my will.

Star-board side, I float toward,
A path to which I can’t arrive,
Have anchors torn me from my reward?
A shore of clarity; I am alive.

A map would help in my selection,
A sheltered place for my head to lie,
Upward stream the course of direction,
As the compass points into the sky,

A star glazed river lies forever still,
While distant passengers flow in search for journeys end,
A beckon of light comes from beyond the mill,
Perhaps a peaceful place for their time to spend.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

The Third Eye

Frequent expressions of wonder,
Onto those whom seek,
Distant and foreign lands to most,
In this awoken dream,

Hands perched beside rising conscious,
Invert direction of thought,
Submerged, the pineal opens,
Mystery forever brought,

Inside, I find we do collide,
Confine; only a choice,
Connected as the synapse bridge,
Speaking, without a voice.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

Burn All of the Flags

Smouldering pieces of thread,
Quenching synthetic boarders from ourselves,
A Phoenix burns within,
Onto crimson wings we fly,
As our heart burns forever, never to die,
Never to die,

Ashes that dashes all fear yet curiosity
Burns still, we will all be free,
To see a man, as my brother,
No difference of heart,
Not one from another,
We’ll have cloth to warm those children instead,
While the states of power, are the only ones dead,
The only ones dead,

Smouldering pieces of thread,
Quench synthetic boarders from ourselves,
Phoenix burns within,
Onto crimson wings we fly
Our heart burns forever, never to die,
Never to die,

So burn all of the flags,
Bodies left without the tags,
Left without presuming our own lives,
Left without nationality,
Left with life, as a priority,

Pride for what’s left of our countries,
Is beside what’s left when we still cut down trees,
Suffocated in colours until we’re colour blind,
They fade, tolerance of each other is where we will find,
One single land for all,
Stronger together, we cannot fall.
We cannot fall.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

Measurements of Men

Measure men not in meters,
Yet in volume of ventricle, you’ll find,
Compassion therein, one’s true capacity,
Of magnitude meaning, undefined,

How little broad shoulders do matter,
To bolster an orphan through rem,
Nor biceps do shelter maternal sadness,
As she leaves droplets under the stem,

It’s in the weight he holds onto a syllable,
For he knows the force which unfolds,
A gentle note, his frequent reprise, 
Amplifies resonance in young and old,

At length he smiles, beams of luminous youth,
To displace an aging darkness found in you,
Counts not the flames all ready blue, rather the
Lines of laughter, which alight your face in lieu,

Currency he finds a fictitious banquet,
Only for whom Dyne in dwindling power,
Sufficiency bestows the imperial value,
Only to whom embrace solely this hour,

Degrees of perception not bound by paper,
He sees no end, to his quest for knowledge,
As wisdom becomes his definitive asset,
Salmon so rare, caught far beyond college,

Like Pascal, men endure all bars atmospheric,
While so few bow only in gesture to humility,
Wounds fail to callous his resilient demeanor,
In respect to his embodiment of human fragility,

All stellar souls dwarf, as death begins its call,
While novas shine brighter, learnt in its latter’s fall,
So measure not, the meters of men,
But the loving moments, left behind them.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

Friday Night Wanderings

Pippidy pop the hops on top,
Never just the one, a few,
Pippidy pop once again he stops,
To find himself askew,

Crickiddy crack the floor boards do slack,
As he walks to a lady, red skirt,
Crickiddy crack as the pub fire goes black,
But a spark burns still, they flirt,

Tippidy tap onto Google Maps,
To find a place to stay,
Tippidy tap up and down her lap,
And now my friends, he’s laid,

Bippidy beep yet silence by a man turned sheep,
A fault onto her own she’s sure,
Bippidy beep the Response stick runs deep,
Tainted time but love unknown still pure,

A crackly cry up towards the sky,
The bastard has now been born,
A crackly cry after he says goodbye,
Dim shadow, she’s left to morn,

Tickiddy tock the hands of time do rock,
Oneself into situations of chance,
Tickiddy tock charms fade after the clock,
So leave it my dear, to just one dance.

Details | Shane Rundle Poem

Last a While

In this moment, I fade into,
An infant sense of time,
Man and earth all disappear,
Can’t define a me from you,

We’ve travelled so long, so far,
To reach this place that we find,
What’s been left away to hide,
What’s inside becomes alive,

A lonely clock stands still to smile,
Watching friends fly on by,
Hands held up in serenity,
Letting seconds last a while.