Tag: poem

What’s Happened To Time? (Inspired by The Wedding Of Riversong)

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time

The clock it never even ticks anymore
Something bad has happened to time
Just what exactly do I mean by that
Does time belong to you or is time mine

Please explain to me in terms more clear
If its gone has someone committed a crime
Cause no one seems to have enough anymore
What in the Hell has happened to time

Killing time had a thrilling time
Time to make a change
On time in time
Times been re-arranged
What if I’m behind time
Where can I find time
Can’t even define time
Time
A time for us
Someday there’ll be a time for us
Our time has come
Time has come today
One time sometime any time will do
Right here right now I think your time is through
Time heals time steals time a for all good men
Make time take time its time to start again
Been here and gone
But time goes on
Time is on my side
Have no time to bide
No time -go time -hurry up its show time
Your time my time I think its about high time
To give the time of day
Time is slipping away
Time has come today
It’s the right time to stitch time and save nine so sublime
Its about time
The right time
Is nighttime
But what is the time?

Does anybody really no what time it is?
Does anybody care?
Time’s up
We out

I’M OUT!

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out

This town has had it’s blood removed
Unforgiving city without a heart
Scoffing me disdainfully
Hurting me so painfully
This ain’t no city of Angels
This city ain’t got no heart
Or maybe it’s me

Cold town in a cold state
Cold state of mind without a heart
Laughing at me so damn sarcastic
Nothing but silicone and plastic
This ain’t no city to live in
This city ain’t no place to stay
Or maybe it’s me

It’s like I’ve had my soul ripped out
This place has made me heartless
Walking down the streets of the city
Block to block there ain’t no pity
I don’t have no place to go
Town that brings me down so low
Or maybe it‘s ….
No, it’s this city
I’m out

The Meadows of Misgiving

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meadow

While looking behind at yesterday pages
Tripped over a memory lacking legitimate aplomb
Mud hazed visions forced me cognizant to a knee
But repentance waned pale in futile effort reformed
First shackled then bound before sent to prison
In the meadows of my misgivings

Passed the pipe with my spiteful ghosts
Haunted by the commendation of the self
Sang with the spirits of what could have been
Melodic lamentations nostalgic of rueful musing
Until the weight of yesterday still held me firm
In the meadows of my misgivings

Wafting cyclones of foreboding thoughts
Compelling shivers of a malevolent dungeon
Recollection of nefarious performance’s passed
Leave me cognizant of my deficient morality
Sentenced a life of self imposed flogging
In the meadows of my misgivings

The Soldier And The Poet

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poet

The soldier hurts more every day
Yet still ready to go to war
Putting bullets in fear today
Finding something worth dying for

Blind ambition
Its my duty
Flames of Hell
That’ll suit me
I’m a soldier
Gun in hand
Prepared to kill
Defend your land
Kill my enemy
Allies thrilled
May get maimed
May get killed
Never run
No thought of treason
Don’t want to die
For no reason

The poet cries inside each day
Yet always ready to tell more
Putting dreams into words today
Finding something worth living for

Blind ambition
Finding love
Rainbow sunrise
The sky above
I’m a poet
Pen in hand
Prepared to share
My special land
Share my stories
Abstract views
Write of beauty
Or write of blues
Beauty abounds
Every season
Don’t want to live
What’s the reason

The soldier stands on the brink
Smoke of destruction rising near
Facing death at every corner
Eyes closed while facing fear

The poet stands on the brink
Smoke of dreams rising high above
Facing life at every corner
Eyes closed while dreaming love

I’m a soldier
Fighting a war
I found something
Worth dying for
I carry a gun
My mind is numb
I’ll blow my enemy
To kingdom come
I fight for freedom
I fight for peace
Some have to die
Some have to cease
Its just the way
The new world works
Bombing for peace
Where evil lurks

I’m a poet
I protest war
I found something
Worth living for

I write for peace
I write my notions
I’m searching for
Beautiful emotions
Want you to feel
What life can bring
Every living beauty
Every living thing
I see the good side
To make you shout
Try and tell the world love
Love is what life’s about
I write of freedom
And the stars above
I want to live
In a world of love

The soldier hurts more every day
Yet still ready to go to war
Putting bullets in fear today
He found something worth dying for
The poet cries inside each day
Yet always ready to tell more
Putting dreams into words today
So we have something worth living for

PEACE

Ole Man River

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old man

The riverbank so old and wise
Weaving tales of travelers passed
Telling tales of lover and raft
Afloat on dreamy myths amassed

Good and evil through its currents
Hot as Hell or as cold as ice
Even the waters sneak up to hear
The mud filled banks advice

Sparkling off tips of river grass
Hidden amongst the wilted reeds
The secrets of your life revealed
At the mouth where the river feeds

Old man river
Does no wrong
Old man river
Sing his song

Water rapid
Truths revealed
Old man river
Fates unsealed

Rising off beads of morning dew
To the aroma of petrichor
Dance across it’s ballroom reeds
Beg the river tell you more

Old man river with wisdom full
Listen close or pass on through
The secrets that the river keeps
May not be meant for you

But either way the years acquired
Generations of life in fraternity
The stories Old Man River tells
Will entertain for eternity

Old man river
Waves of wisdom
Whitecap waters
Profound vision

Tales of glory
tales of woe’s
Old Man river
Always flows

Old man River
Wise and true
Stop to listen
As you pass through

Graveyard of Regrets

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regret

I’m a dreamer life imprisoned
By poor decisions of my past
Living out my life sentence
How much longer will it last

Me, I’m merely an illusion
A rainbow fading dull at dusk
Dreaming away my guilty world
While trapped inside my husk

Place a wager if you think I make it
The devil he will take your bets
If you want me you can find me
In the graveyard of regrets

The Shine

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shine

Something strange is going on
This place smells like old burnt toast
History breathes inside the walls
That hotel has some strange ass ghosts
Head chef Dickie laid down the scat
Sending shivers across Danny’s spine
I know you feel it so now you own it
Son you got the shine

Take your seat at the bar unreal
That glass of scotch is your last meal
It’s the shine knows how you feel
Crazy old man gonna make you squeal

Take a look what hangs on the wall
Find your portrait inside the illusion
Nothing good can come out of a storm
Snowbound family in mountain seclusion
Tony spoke from the tooth of the boy
Soon He’ll be chanting murder in reverse
Don’t stay too long at Overlook Hotel
Everyone knows that place is cursed

There’s a picture hanging in the bar
Each one of them may be dead
Danny don’t go in that room
The rug is bleeding crimson red

Redrum in the hallway
The twins are doing fine
Ride the big wheel to their room
Son you got the shine

Jack Jack hammer straight to their hearts
Folding their lives like death Origami
A gleaming knife through a broken door
A frightening shout from a hole…“Here’s Johnny”

Wendy Wendy time to run
His eyes are full with craze
Grab your boy and flee outside
Hide him in the maze

Quiet son don’t let him hear
Hush now boy he’s getting near
Takes your love but gives you fear
making all your life unclear

Mother and son have crossed the line
I got yours and you got mine
Quiet Wendy there’s no time for cryin
Your son has got the shine

A Very Haiku

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haiku

Mondays can suck so I use low brow humor to help force a smile. In tenth grade my English class was introduced to Haiku’s so my just as warped friend and I worked together to make the following two masterpieces….
I
Lifes like a lemon
So squeeze from it what you can
But don’t let it drip

II
When pigeons fly high
The sound that they make is called
A very high coo

Peace out

The Sighted Blind

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sighted

So much anger on display
Spewing opinions every day
Don’t realize they lost their way
Rise then fall like an old soufflé

Through a darkness so unkind
Through a world they have maligned
Nose stuck up high yet unrefined
The visions of the sighted blind

Ignorant masses
Acting classless
Living in bliss
Yet always pissed
Creating a storm
The new social norm
20 20 eyesight
But can’t see the light
They need their vision realigned
Show pity for the sighted blind

Voice and vision so distorted
Want their problems self deported

Independent thought in shortage
Think they have life problems sorted

They don’t care to ever listen
Solve with biblical dominion
Thoughts lost in cognitive oblivion
Should sighted blind be forgiven

They believe they have clout but have no doubt
They know nothing about how to sort life out
Just want their views to be on the news
Full of bullshit we can’t use
Want me to help their agenda linger
But I wouldn’t lend my little finger
Nevermind those left behind feeling confined and being defined
What in the Hell is on the mind
Of the esoteric and sighted blind

They act so refined
With the lies they enshrine
They are the sighted blind

Inspiration and The Muse

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muse

Inspiration
Inspiration is the air we breath, the sunset we watch
The music of life we feel as our souls dance in the wind
Sounds played so indiscreet it scatters hope along horizons
Songs that only a dreamer could dream
Gently pouring Meade from jugs of hallowed thought
Filling the skies with promises whispered in the shade
But fulfilled in the heart

Inspiration is
Breaking fences to allow passage for the wonton desires
To frolic in the garden of life’s labor found
This garden planted from the spark of arduous hope
Seeds of impulse illuminated glowing in amber beginnings
Awakening the harmonious cosmic perception of spirit
Growing and sprouting glorious rainbows of edible life
Brought fourth by the haughty tango of bee and stamen
Flower and insect wrapped in a dances of passion
Openly making love in the garden of growth

Inspiration is in that garden
I lay humble in its triumphant essence alone to think
To ponder the mysteries of the self
This meal I cook is a poem of sustenance
The aria I sing from the voice of love
Tunes conceived under covers of darkened rooms
These words I write are a symphonies of my inspirations
My gratitude now hangs on the walls of a cerebral museum
Belonging to the muse

The Muse

Let the muse light your fuse
Set your mind afire
You could use to lose the blues
Inspired with desire

They motivate and invigorate
Fan the flames with rapture
First they locate then they rotate
Spin you as their captor

Don’t expire the muses fire
Let your intellect grow
They’ll take you higher above the mire
Your muse will make you glow