Reception

The ocean rose
the sky fell
the rain beat the drums,
the fire spread,
the earth shook,
the sun set,
the moon was full,
the water ran,
the sound grew,
the people pled,
the stars said,
the cycle ends,
the wind screams,
the thunder claps
eager for more
Encore, Encore
the world wondered
if the message sent
or had been red...



Painting by Joaquín Clausell [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

N.E.W.

Because nobody else was thinking of this now-
               Nobody Else Was reading those-
               Nobody Else Was paying attention-
               Nobody Else Was saving anybody else-
               Nobody Else Was trying to be more-
               Nobody Else Was looking up anyway-
               Nobody Else Was wondering anymore-
Because nobody ever was saying
This.



Image By Everglades NPS from Homestead, Florida, United States [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

This Tragic Lovelife

Because I love my life,
all my secret dreams are shadowed in my reality Now
and I see This-a secret I keep,
I feel its loss and know This solidifies This sentiment.
I cherish the fragility
manifest in created destinies, like these
small acts greater than one's capacity,
to acknowledge
-This is Happy-
and Then
there is little me in big denial
smiling from year to year
at the missed opportunity
of being present-ly and ceremoniously
single.

Because I hate myself,
all my good intentions rot and fester in Dis-regard,
and I see that I am not alone in this,
that makes me yearn for more silence
and To Be Better
than I am
to me
We should agree to disagree
like both sides of me
in equality.


Image By Currier & Ives [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Sharp Nows

They lived and died this way
worried all the while
about living right
and terrified of dying
and yet full motions
are always only temporary.

Just like thoughts
are born and die too soon...
So they too dreamt the night away
where nobody could say
it was impossible.

Living for today, they say,
be in the moment,
where you are contained
and less than aware
of faces, that look-
like yours.



Image by Howard Pyle (1888), [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

All in a day

Will it ever cease?
The stars don't give up to-day.
Lumens were simply a clue
of brighter futures
not a past promise
for ever.



Image By Internet Archive Book Images, Cornell Poetry Anthology, 1920 [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

Blending in

Greyscale is more than
black and white values, showing
a com-par-i-son.



Image By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons. 

Life and letters of John Constable, R. A (1896)

Quicksand

Since poetry is up to interpretation, meaning-wise-
how does the poetry reader understand the Poet's intent
with certain-T's like Truth and Tale
divided unevenly...
Mostly, we knew the poet forgets these two
So how does a semblance come together as a sense
of justice, (common sense) or was it just us
who smiled at the cool plums...

Electromagnetism asserts its charge,
Gravity resists a zero,
the Poet's ears are taut
the words that wobble and worry
about none
poetic and pathetically undone
in ink.
Welcome All.
Let that sink in, a lifeline.
Try this barefoot
with a poem,
touch the earth with your toes-
read it again, it will tell you
its potent-ialities
softly, poetry
tart and juicy.



Painting by Ilya Repin, Tolstoy Barefoot, 1901 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.