Author: Unknown
Awaken, dear soul, from your slumber deep,
Unveil your potential, let it no longer sleep.
Seek within the strength that you possess,
Embrace self-improvement, and let it manifest.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2023
About this poem:
the poem serves as a motivational reminder to awaken one's dormant potential, to seek strength from within, and to embrace the process of self-improvement. It encourages individuals to break free from limitations, harness their inner capabilities, and allow their true selves to flourish.
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Ripple of water cascades
follows the river bank
ebbs and flows the jagged rocks
cascades down burrows
From simple flows the stream
widens and flows
sounds of water cascades
Down waterfalls power and surge
sound fill ones hears
to the waging roar
water cascades
descends to the cool waters below
sound silent water flows
fish pool and swim below
The river descends it onward flow to open sea
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2023
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I listen to the loneliness of those that reside here, to hell with the world and all its fear, dont spend your time in contemplation, of what it could have been, you are all it was and all you could have been, tomorrow is not the beginning or all that you could have seen,, if it ends right here,, if it ends today, its what come what may, its not what you did and its not what you say! Over and out? or not?
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Posted: Nov 2021
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Just a note
to say hello,
waiting on a bowl of gumbo.
Seems you are a no-show,
Probably sneaking off again with the maestro
Long ago
known for her solos
but before she wore out her welcome on cello,
she tried to play jazz off a banjo
in the wine cellar was locked away her self-absorbed piano.
Summoned inspiration for a tune from an episode
from The Twilight Zone
which starred a fallen saint who lost her halo
When It rolled from her dome
while dipping her bent toes
into the dark cosmos
but pissed off a red demonic hippo
pouncing on a giant translucent minnow
So the story goes
she paid thru the nose.
The falling halo
was oddly enough snatched up by a swooping sparrow,
but dropped like a dirty ho
on seeing a dancing scarecrow
doing the tango
with a Hispanic gringo.
but crows are no dodos
Each of them has a mind of their own.
mostly Crows are at home
on sun baked roads,
like Idaho's
US 95 thru Moscow,
grilling up some squirming h*rny toads.
The halo tumbled for years through God only knows
til it finally landed on the Antiques Roadshow
in Chicago
following a dubious Van Gogh
spotted missing yet another ear lobe?!
.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2020
About this poem:
LOVE LOST
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Author: Unknown
I am beyond meaning but to punctuate that you may as well be talking to my cat
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2019
About this poem:
I decided to make trifle successfully of course otherwise I would have not made a decision to do so
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In the Labyrinth of Life,
One meets alot of queer folk,
Some will be straight,
Others will joke,
In their extreme,
They are called a Jokester,
Dressed in hot pink,
Stuck on life's lightning fast steep,
Roller Coaster
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2018
About this poem:
Kidding around is part of life. For some, however, that's all they ever do. Ever wanting to be the center of attention they become locked into a cycle of approval seeking that keeps them stuck. They never mature.
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