The sultry night hung heavy, Like moist towel smothered air, Neighbors snuggled tenderly, No chance of a bugaboo scare. My city snored while I wrote, Until a melody danced to my ear. "An insect symphony!" I'd rapturously dote. Nature soothes... if only you could hear.
"What good is a flower?" The boy said in disgust. "You can't eat it or use it, Why it's no better than rust!" The Copycat replied, "Why it's no better than rust, Boy, you've answered yourself. Life is beauty before dust."
Life is but a lake That mirrors the falling leaf Ripples shatter glass The frame's still in place Most times it takes the most time To see beauty in change Chaos should be loved That which seems so separate Has always been one
Face your life head on, While rolling with the punches Be still as a lake But don't bend like willows Or one day soon break. Face your fears head on, They are a hidden gift What frightens is really light Like lighthouses save sailors adrift on a dark moon night. This was really … Continue reading Face – 50 word poem [Tranquil Tuesday/Thursday]
Dappled sun upon A crunchy leaf symphony; Friend of the forest.
Rustling of the Tobacco burning. Lingering perfume; For her I'm yearning. Whispering pages Freely give teaching. Worrying about paper When wealth is Being. Dancing on top Of moonlit awning. Making all of this A beautiful happening.
Shivers down the spine This unstoppable feeling When nothing is one
Plans get made to be broken; So now I don't often make 'em. Plans shared about my mission; So, "It's only genie lamp wishin'." Plans to change the whole entire world; So towards a risk filled life I hurtled. Plans to check off all of my to dos; So I'm just laid back counting fish … Continue reading Plans [Poem]
Theres no stars at night in Hollywood, At least not ones that really shine. More akin to wick than nebula, That thing may just be a sign. Something is derived from nothing, Meaning nothing is divine.
Spoiled milk in windowsill, No evil spirits on this day. Rotten fruit in kitchen bowl, Sweetly cognac flows my way. Barley crumbles into ale, Sharp boy hidden in the hay. Someone else can get the bill, Rod's a legal drunk today.