winter blues
September here cold Nights wind and rain Blowery gales Stormey Weather Wind chills late nights Darkness reigns Street lamps twinkle Blackend skies star s hidden By darkness vale Cold chills Jack frost approaches Winter appoches
venom
Cobra hiss its fork tounge Ears widen head surges high Coiled body tail rattle it only tune Defends its domain Rattles its tail Poised ready to strike Teeth projects Its venom deep Fast and hard Fangs deep It (.)(.) Waits Poi
Stars and Dandelions
Deep down in the blue sky Like pebbles on the ocean floor They lie submerged till dark comes... Stars unseen in the light of day. You can't see them,still they're there. Even things not seen are there. Petals drop and withered dandelions Hid
THE CAVE
I wrote this poem after viewing a picture sent to me by my friend Shrop Lad. A picture of a cave facing the Sea somewhere in the vicinity of the home of Dylan Thomas the poet, where he lived in Wales
body builder
To behold the chest:-) Of hairy man His flesh ripped and toned With strengh of ten Legs bulging His iron grip Buttocks hard and clenched Tinny trunks hide what's not to see He massages tones his body His daily routine Hours a
Zen Enlightenment
(haiku) The above stated may seem simplistic but it is not. Zen is a way of seeing. The things of everyday life remain the same. It is one's way of seeing that changes. The change may require years to take place. True spiritual practice is not founded on attainment or on the miraculous, but on seeing life itself as a true miracle. In the words of a Zen master, My magical power and miraculous gift: Drawing water and chopping wood.
Hummingbird
I see this every morning and was moved to express this simple little joy!
Winter Treasures
I wrote this poem two years ago in December. Sorry for the possible mistakes, I'm Polish and English is my second language. Enjoy!
No Title
JUST BRAIN STORMING!!!
SONG OF THE ELM
It is possible for nature to fear man He is their biggest threat'
November's CConversation
A November Conversation "Leafless tree, gray and bare as your mood, you arms thin and frail, somehow you manage a majestic stance in your loft, as you extend a crooked limb to warn me of advancing snows. And with a gust of wind, four
It's Weird
It's weird how Shiny silver raindrops fall from black clouds. It's weird how Silkworms turn white when they eat green mulberry leaves. It's weird how Moonflowers open at dusk without a poke from anyone. It's weird how People I ask lau
Forrest
I just love forrests ,the wildness the smell of the trees,everything about it really.
heroes songs
Valhalla though your gates are hung with the gold of heroes songs accommodation you offer only bones in dirt like every souls birthright yet still they call the sirens of a younger mans dreams
Moon Beams------- a wayra
A Wayra originates from South Africa and is an UN-rhymed poem that has a count of 5-7-7-6-8 It can be one or more stanzas long
once upon a time....
when tourism overcomes the delicate beauty of a place and the load or should i say waste that develops from the volumes of visitors there.....
THE BEAUTY OF GOD'S CREATION
ALL OF GOD'S CREATION IS SO BEAUTIFUL TO ME, EVERY RIVER, EVERY LAKE, EVERY OCEAN, AND EVERY SEA; THE SUNRISES AT DAWN TO GIVE US THE MORNING LIGHT, AND THE MOON AND THE STARS IN SPACE ARE LIKE SPARKLING DIAMONDS IN THE SKY AT NIGHT THE MOUN
A DAY AT THE PARK
I wrote this poem while I was at the park Back in the mid 80's. I felt a sense of total peace as the words just flowed from my mind to the tip of my pen the cool breeze and the calmness of the water filled me with perfect serenity!
MAY MOON
I have been intrigued by Moon energy all my life and there is definitely some crazy energy with the moon. I have always felt we were like sisters somehow. I've never related to The MAN in the moon. Ever! She's always been this lovely, ethereal being that I could talk to and share with. Yeah, I know, but I still do feel that way. She's like Stevie nicks somehow. LOL. ANd sometimes in life we just don't get what we want. Sigh. Make sense to anyone?
Into the Night
This is my sweet daughter Meriwether, the baby. It's short she was 12 when she wrote it..now 23 and about to be married..times trudges on!
sunshine
On. The beach the maidens lay Soaking in the suns rays Rubbing oil so they won't burn Boobs out oh what joy to watch Blistering in the mid day sun Hour on the front Hour on the back Soaking up that hot sun To desire that all over ta
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the b
dead of summer
The dead of summer in Saudi Arabia can be boring. Inspired by the book Eunoia by Christian Bok.
shewolf
Eyes red Scaving blood Fangs dripping She Prowls er domain Paws arched She follows the scent Her pray Claws and fangs ready Flesh from flesh She tears apart For she the master of her domain She the shewolf
old man
Who are you Your body Grows old Hints of hair grey Kness that knock And sometimes pain Hints of pain you hold your chest They come and go Breathless Climbing those stairs Where once You ran in a minute mile Age creeps upon
The Wild Swans at Coole
The trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine and fifty swans. The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me Since I fir
Sun and Wind
Sun and Wind argued fiercely with each other as to which of them really was the stronger Wind said at sea I toss huge ships around and on land I blow trees and houses down Sun said my strength is helping things grow feeding them sunshine with
Mary Jane
This describes how weed is more then just a plant or drug its a gift from nature and for some its the only medication that helps them. Now when I wrote this poem I was medicated (420)
Paradise
Sun's ablaze A summer's day Rare to this isle Of skies so often grey To despairs doom And sorrows decay All noise lost among the child's play And bloom of flowers In garden and in vase Heat to ignite the spirit In smile and joy aflame
Daily Tides
Proposing 'terra firma' is only a myth.
Wind
just was thinking about the wind... just thoughts...
Enlightenment
You must be a lotus, unfolding its petals when the sun rises in the sky, unaffected by the slush where it is born or even the water which sustains it ~ Sai Baba ~
Who Goes With Fergus?
WHO will go drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood's woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man ,lift up your russet brow, And lift your tender eyelids,maid, And brood on hopes and fear no more. And no more turn aside and b
HELP ME LIVE
devastation from storm and damage
Storm at Sea rhyme
Storm at Sea The storm gathers strength air increasing its wavelength clouds rush as past they scurry the cold creates a snow flurry The winds fight as they battle cold against warm they rattle out to sea the waves gigantic as they rush
Sas goes on a Rant
As always, your fresh perspective has helped me rationalize the prospect of another terrifying day I've been really stressed out lately until I found the teachings of a Tibetan monk named Lo Fat. His book gave me real serenity and jo
Angel Humour
It is a day of strong winds Debris streams down the street People lean into the wind Umberellas invert and rip At home the storm moans and shrieks Trees are down on the roads Smashing houses and cars And so we curse the weather Take care
Said The Blind Man
A blind mans wish. Thanks for reading, be blessed!
storm
the tide Washes upon the beach Drifting sand Washed Away by the sea Diplaced Carried corressed Deposited washed away Moving tides Calm gently washes the beach Exposed grains pebbles carried upon the oceon floor Deposited T
Into the Twilight
OUT-WORN heart,in a time out-worn, Come clear of the nets of wrong and right; Laugh heart again in the gray twilight, Sigh,heart,again in the dew of the morn. Your mother Eire is always young, Dew ever shining and twilight gray; Though hope
Insomniac
Another sleepless night spent ruffling sheets & a poet's mind. Eyes swollen like sponges, head pounding from another night of sleep's betrayal. Do emotions fill every poet's mind when the sun sets? Do thoughts scream in every poet
In The Gloaming
The hunter set off just before the gloaming adjusting the straps of his high powered rifle it was a long way to where the stag usually fed a majestic stag sprouting twelve point antlers Climbing high up the rugged mountain side he trekked fast