Newest About CS Poems (263)

Sing unto me oh birds of the air
Such beauty is your song
and your feathers so fair

With each glance you stare
out into the horizon contemplating your cares

I try to reach and understand your concerns but, somehow the harder I try the less I know and still too much to learn.

You sit all comfy in your nest
and observing and listening to the songs of others
and selectively call unto your sisters and brothers.

The tree of life may be great
and offers many comfort while it considers thy fate

I see you flying to and fro dancing to the rhythm and flow
Some birds seem to sing louder and sweeter while others are rarely heard
or even understood so they
fly away having no place to go.

Ah but, every once in awhile there are foolish crazy birds who visit the tree of life thinking and hoping for something different
Perhaps a new song or new message that will offer something of value to soften the strife.

However, the disillusionment is still the same and over time the tree loses its fame.

Many birds may complain
Many may be just insane
yet for some it's all they have
to ease their pain.

I wonder if the angels in heaven are listening or are all the songs the birds sing are drowned by the noise of their grumblings and groanings?

One day the birds will be called accountable for their singing
They will be asked of their songs if they brought healing or strife to be considered to perch upon another tree of life.

Disinfected and Inoculated
[Poetry Foundation website, et al]

Little round scar on my upper arm
It wasn’t Carolyn Forche` who jabbed the first needle
Kudos and credits are hers all the same
for administering my first adult dose
(also thankful those; Shots for the Sniffles, Dr. Seuss and others)

Words are Deployed into ranks by capability
Deploy rather than write words in succession
Poets all too careless with the Hazmats they transport
So be reminded, straightaway in my amateurity
it’s not merely cute, but vital
to pattern novel ways, to Exposition a Thing:
e.g. twice deploy Amateurity
(injected) twice above

So rather than sprinkle ‘round the rim with phonetics
never touching the slime with precious pink hands
alternatives to rhyme require more sweat
A muse of license grasps a hypodermic and an auger
along with sponge and gauze
suction pipe
caustic bleach, mop and pail
kept just out of sight but close nearby

is this a place
for romance
or a place to talk
a place to heal
a place to complain

oh, I'm tired of writing poems today
just wondering how many are looking
or if they have someone
or don't want anyone

just curious
trying to get a feel for the place

There was once a blogger whose blogs were rich
In their potential for opinion generation
they were ahead of their time
and the blogging itself was of unparalleled artistry
Such discussion flowed from each and every observation
made by this master of the study of human nature
Though never formally trained
the blogger's insights were both new and bore a clarity
that was nothing short of stunning
However, one day he was in a horrible
motorcycle crash
and still to the present day
he is disabled
Through years of meditation
he gained the remarkable ability
to resume his ponderings
but the effort leaves him
emotionally and physically exhausted
in need of bed
and Alka-Seltzer
and unable to engage in the banter
that was so customary to follow
In short, his disability,
his commentlessness
leaves us all a bit
disabled in our own commenting
Remember him

two
is the number of days
until I can post

two
can be so many
to hold breath

two
is too many
sometimes

two
will go away
eventually

When we are born, we enter the world. This my friends is the start of the circle of life. We get to know our parents and are spoilt by countless relatives. When we are toddlers, we learn to walk and talk. When we are children, we go to school and learn right from wrong. We may find ourselves lucky enough to have a sibling.

When we are teenagers, we decide which path we take for better or for worse. We leave our childhood behind and start to enter adulthood. We may find our first true love and learn to drive a cat and get our first taste of working in the workforce. When we are adults, we travel around. We may marry our childhood sweetheart or someone new and become parents ourselves.

When we are middle aged, we may become grandparents and spoil our children's children. We may think about retirement. When we are old, we start to slow down, this is the saddest part of life. We also know the end is near and therefore plan the next phase of our life in heaven. When we die, we know that the wheel of the circle of life will keep turning as we are not forgotten. This my friends is the circle of life.

I have filled out where I am from,
I have stated my age.
With a click of the mouse,
you can see my page.

I put this info there,
so you don't have to ask me.
If you ask me these things,
not trying to be dastardly.

But I'm thinking that maybe,
you're a bit dense?
Or maybe just lazy,
please don't take offense.

For it's me who's offended,
to be asked what you ask.
Read my damned profile,
it's no great task.

Guess what, if you actually bother to,
take a look at my available profile.
You'll see I'm not the one for you,
you're simply smitten by my smile!

I hear you
I knew

too sudden for birds to arise?
don't think so

Surrendered you did to your
cries

sleeping ghost
that
weeps so
alone



flick your such
blanket anger

spread your'e unknown

It is you....your chance to make a difference

sleep well in the hell

now you are dead

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Mr and Missus sealed with a million kissess,

Death by toll's upon the golden scroll it's truth it's fantasy it's story's untold,

Beneath the apple tree the story's are told,


But out the real world your own life unfolds.