Most Liked Abstract Poems (471)

shades into shades she weeps
tears which the darkness keeps
til through longest night we sweep
awakening bones of the earth from sleep

Thunder Birds approach on the horizon...
just before the rain -
four-legged's tapping and banging on this old house
and its skeletal windowpanes...
rain dancing across the tin roof
barely touching the gutter,
the thunder growls,
and south winds howl...
earth, bones and walls begin to shudder.
The Owl perched above the loft sits frozen..
yet always keeping his even and steady scowl.
The Ancient Ones spoke of these harbingers...
These Thunder Birds,
and how they would foretell of the Storms to come,
They come now...
in my dreams...
in my Vision..
before the thunder clouds,
in a crash...
in a whisper.
The clear reflection in this still pool
mirrors my perceptions now...
as before...
but soon reflections obscured,
Choked by the red clay that swirls within its depths.
My friend, the dark bird...
lost in the ever turbulent streams above the clouds,
will soon find its roost...
...and the Grandfather will bring us the Holy Light,
born from the heart of the eastern mountains.

Gregory Sexton

Outside my broken window, the light begins to fade ...
at least that's how the evening tide makes it seem...
I look into my closed mind ,
to see if I can walk the night ...
to bridge the gap ,
to keep close to me ,
the warm, life giving light...
I look outside my window broken ...
and what remains of this life ,
kneading and treading the old paths,
cognizant and privy to the new ....
with a measure of heart,
standing...with shields of Faith,
Hope and Love,
I will traverse the landscapes before me,
those paths most welcome...and those not.

Gregory Sexton


3:59 PM

THIS DANCE


If there were days enough...
I would learn this Dance,
to dance with you.

The flood light .... the sunrise...
like Icarus - we ascend to the heavens,
like Icarus - only to fall to the earth again...
and again.

This is my dream...
our feet shifting the dust,
ancient and coarse,
cold and splintered planks, worn and true...
do they selfishly hide the passion and words from years past?
Or simply crude constructs of oak...and yew.

Another stage to attend Sir Will!
where genius rings true...
and the plagiarist is found and scorned.

Gnostic flames (our path embellished)
illuminate our face,
certain to displace the darkest of shadows...
while leaving enough to hide our scars,
and portend any claim to grace.

This is the Dance,
when steps and twists and turns,
left us both to chance,
and we knew the Light never to leave...
while the wax and wick....contorts, spits and burns.



GMS75
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Posted: January 2nd, 6:00 PM CST

He stood proud and strong
this monument of a bygone man.
His helmet glistened
shield and staff held high.
But I heard his cry
"pigeons be gone
your shit is eroding my metal."

"Silly monument, I said
in my head.
Bygone men were real
made of stronger steel.
The shit they had to bare
certainly did not scare.

They survive through you.
So cut the crap,
for now, it's raining
the shit away.

From monuments high
On pillars of stone
She stands alone
Her gaze

Her features
Her sensual body set in stone
Frome granite stone
Her gaze fixed

She stands
For all to see
Model set in stone For she is the attraction
The model for all to see

Winter is colder than sun
Sun is hotter than winter
Some cats are very meow, others are not
Mice are very tricky
Mars is not so far
So let's be together

Two parallel lines never cross
Even if you start drawing them at same time
A circle is a circle
Green leaves are not blue

A typewriter with handwriting letters
Can be useful
Would be nice
And easy

9th line of this poem
10th line of this poem
11th line of this poem
And this is the last line

I left you a little note
That says how much
I could have wrote, what
I couldn't put into words
Just has to go unheard

I am sorry that it has to be this way
I didn't want to go away,
but after time and time again
We can return to being friends
I don't want to hurt you anymore
Before even I need to walk out the door

I left you more than a little note
But take what resonates with you
To keep afloat, and I will rush
To get my coat

These words I wish to say to you
I love you until the moon turns blue
Beyond the moon and the stars out back
Beyond the eclipse before it goes black

I will love you, friend, until the bittersweet end
Knowing that you have heartfelt matters to tend,
Don't be daft and be a stranger, if you need me, yell!
I will be there next to the willow tree near the wishing well.

Its a crazy world out there, especially when inspiration is gone
When feelings are imparted, and creativity is shared
Do people really seem to care?
We are caught in a momentary trap, a wormhole, paradox of your making
Do you think we are still circulating?
Are we just foreigners trying to come to terms with our reality?
Are we aliens in human form trying to come to grips with our humanity?
When will we realize that we are not pawns for society?
And the fears or worries lift into a tsunami of anxiety?
When you think you can get up and just be strong
When your voice feels smothered and you don't know
Where you do belong, when there's no purpose
When you don't know what you should do!

Every day itself is a challenge, when you feel hopeless to impart wisdom
Of the questions and the answers that are circulating around within
When you feel the need to go to ground and heal, and you are stuck
Remembering

When you lose yourself in the past gone by and identities seem to slide away
With a numbing crush of feelings then it tugs on the strings of your heart
In harder challenges of survival, its a regular competition to take part
The old flame of creativity and introspection encourages you to participate
But yet all you can feel is anger, fear and public hate
When you want to bring around a bit of hope, heaven knows how you can cope
But you still want to paint it in so the future doesn't look like its grim!

The world around you changes as soon as you make the choice,
And sooner or later you will find your voice,
Yet in this mission as you partake,
your present intercedes in with the future too
And the seeds of doubt will be one too few
Strength will be a part, gifted from me to you,
And soon I'll be moving forwards heading into the georgeous sun
Knowing in time that my battle of power, control and emotions will be won.