12 Poems. These are various descriptions of nature or moments of pause where I look around.
A Blue Sky of Regret
To see the air, yet not the distance
is to think without regard.
I waited in fair, denying any assistance.
Pride hoodwinked me until I was marred.
Envious hubris in self denial was my old creed within my failed courtyard.
I will rekindle shattered wishes to prove myself to be a better persona of a bard.
And learn to sing about color inked sky, before I serve myself to the graveyard.
A Field of Flowers and Trees
I was taken captive, caprice with thought.
The Earth sought to keep me
in orbit of daisy and dandelions while the Moon threw me away for naught
I flew into a far away land.
Darling world of mine – I am kaput!
Knighted to a hazy sight.
I yearn for golden starlings.
Yet I get but a snarling of care
from not stopping to smell the honeysuckles.
A cat I knew well would not care
He was one who carries on as usual in any and all ways.
So should I these days,
Drifting from sour to sweet.
Be it dearth or plentiful feelings
I will chuckle and be cheeky with life.
I free myself from many a changing thoughts.
Why let the unfulfilled cast a rain on this bright scene.
Life is here in the now.
At the Park Today with Mom
Under better blue skies to wonder.
Feeling free to breathe as big an deep as those fluffy boisterous clouds.
We grabbed some chilled iced tea and guzzled it with glee.
Tasted of crunchy chips, way more than just three.
On the warm stone wall we sat in the sun with ease.
Enjoying a cool days breeze.
It was just me and my mom today.
At the park we listened birds of good company and held a nice view.
So that later we could enjoy great memories.
Bridging Time
My dear old friend who carried me for so long along the ledges
that you now break away into crumbles.
I see the frame and the withered edges.
Soon to be rebuilt from decades of stress and bumbles.
Newly cast for the next generation.
It will cause trouble and agitation.
As all change will.
Humanity in flex, a new frame to seal.
In time you will be back and strong
Ready to hold up the day drivers and insomniacs.
Forest of Pines
Some forest days are spent in the sun.
Squirrels in the mists of fun.
What ways am I most spun?
To the tipping treetops or below to the crawling roots.
While sipping nectar and mauling on muscadines.
No matter the time, a southern forest of pines.
Lines my heart with my home’s sign.
A nice day, along with birds aplenty in this forest I find.
Gateway
Light my way at each step until I am there.
A skip, a hop, and a leap.
Let me pass, let me go.
I see far off and even more beyond that frame.
Can I get there?!
I will pay the toll!
A doorway is a gate.
Beyond is another world, another time and date.
No dithering, no thinking for too long.
Now to cross, I will travel – headstrong along!
Halls of Knowledge
In hidden dim halls of shelves
roam do the silent.
Countless secrets in the open.
For those who seek wisdom to take.
Paper walls encompass the underground castle’s keep.
Those here bid time well
like a wizard in research.
They study like dwarves, caverns deep.
Thinking like elves composing songs of spells.
Crafting works like humans with their engineering mechs.
Books birth to bind minds together
And others to hunger on.
Libraries give untold power
unless one came here to sleep.
Which is not such a sour thought
as is a quite sweet treat.
Light Pole in the Dark
Dim light under sight’s rim
I glance softly as it flickers lofty above.
Alone parked in darkness, it so belongs.
It gives me a path forward as the crickets squeak.
Lonely light pole.
There for any wayward walking soul.
Mountain Mist
City top dwellings in chilly hills.
Life shines tired, ready for rest for the ones who mix drinks.
Other rise to mill about while
winter’s mist flows on the mountain’s crest.
The lights blink
obscured in the morning fog.
Parents rush to the kitchen sink
making morning breakfast while checking their phones uplink.
The drive to work will be somber gray
rush hour on the misty highway.
Swerve around short merging lanes and those who lack any leeway.
An occasionally dreary day is ok
perfect if you are a detective after a mysteries run away
or writing a screenplay after drinking too much cabernet.
Shadow in the City Gates
Here it walks as nightfall inks the night.
Darkness stretches beneath a solid moon.
Here it talks as whispers after the light.
Darkness tilts and bends the day’s tune.
A song of the city’s sleeping sites.
Shadowed bars appear in the path with peeling away at the city veneer.
At night, now it is in sight and keen.
See all there is like a seer.
For that which is hidden can be gleaned.
And leads that which does not live in the light.
Rust, paint peeling iron.
Stitched, yet bent and seduced by time
even Lord Byron would find a good rhyme here.
Dwellers no longer come here often
no need to care for a rusted fortification.
There is not much here to take, unless it’s in a coffin.
Sunset Picture
Live to see.
All that was once was.
Will you see by a blink’s pause?
Fall does this sky.
Standstill, but only at this moment.
It is beauty fleeing my mind.
I can see it everyday
Never mind I never bother to
When will stop in the rush
And admire the view
A sunset most lush.
The Evening Fire that Flies
Fireflies of the night.
Flying like a fire kite.
Set sights among willows eve’s empire.
Twisting time as it seeps into dreams.
Scatter sights deep in color await dusk.
Fireflies live in the wake of skies that make tomorrow’s past.
A twinkling city lights befriends.
Fire flys – the beauties of might.
Fireflies our hopes to see into the fates.
Off Beat Off Kilter 