Stop worrying.
And you'll lose a vital resource.
Diamonds don't sparkle underground
But the Earth always shines under the sun
Certain as darkness burns into dawn.
Pearls lack glamour on the sea bed
But the moon will pull the sandy shore
Certain as day liquefies to night.
Opal shimmers not in earth's cracks
But light diffracts across our vision
Certain as sunsets warm twilight eyes.
Worries have always grown in the cave of our soul
Stalactites formed after years of instinct's delicate drop.
But like expensive diamonds,
worries can scratch and leave scars.
See them as a problem and you'll likely dissolve
See them as a resource and your problems will be solved.
So wipe the dust from the corners of your eyes
Consider worries as instinct in disguise.
Harnessing energy, a gift from Mother Nurture
More valuable than any jewel formed by her organic sister.
Don't envy those who's glass is half full
Half empty is always reusable.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 7:12 AM UTC
Oscar the Octopus lived in a tank
at the centre of Monterrey.
He drew in the crowds with legs suckered proud
as they pressed the glass open mouthed.
He took back his legs when he heard them scream and bowed to rapturous applause.
He reigned supreme but they hadn't yet seen
Medusa's glowing legs next door.
One Thursday in June Oscar changed his tune
As he heard a sound from above.
He took off his crown when he saw floating down
A beautiful gay sea horse.
With eye lashes long and singing a song
From the trumpet that was his nose.
The lyrics he heard sounded absurd
About the joy of having curled tails.
He danced for his guests as Oscar digest
they came to see a new show.
A man who gives birth is surely well worth
A pause to watch them being squeezed out.
Oscar was seen by a few in between
the eyes that easily marvel.
When they tapped on the glass he fell on his ***
As he tried to curl all his tails.
Oscar the Octopus lived in a tank
At the centre of Monterrey.
When the crowds didn't come his stage time was done
And they served him to staff on a plate.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 6:23 AM UTC
I fondly remember how trust was dipped
into each other's ink. We wrote a bond
of naked words with neatly sharpened nibs;
safely sparing delicate hearts from
desire's wicked horns. We licked and touched,
explored our skin; caressed each other's throats,
until your words put on their clothes and smudged
the care bond with gentle dominant strokes.
But my mind will deny another's lips
meet yours in public scenes, your words would need
to bare their flesh, like hope upon first kiss
believing one language bodies can speak.
These last words red, reflect our chemistry
a ****** mind ********** poetry.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 6:21 AM UTC