Dec 2016 Kody
Hadrian Veska 

If you have no purpose,
Don't sit and think to yourself
At the end of the day,
What a shame it is you got nothing done.
You did exactly what you planned to do,

And sometimes,
Nothing is all you need to do.

Kody dibble Dec 2016

Thanks again
Trimming banquets of ice-ish tunnels of growth and decay,
Like swords and staves abound each day,
Like plenty I follow the whim of today,
Please help us all form a new day,

Easy come, easy go,
That's what the white-liner says as it goes,
For me to be free inside of my sea,
I'd often need a place to be

#newness #being #life
 Nov 2016 Kody

Momma you tried
to make a hero out of me:
a girl filled with flaws,
drenching in the heat of her pain.

I remember how you held my hands
and called me a prodigy.
And you were a timeless beauty
but there are times I have
failed you miserably.

Momma, tell me
what do you see when you look at the hills?
grasses, maybe, and flowers hastily done
but without it, you’d have no land to walk on.
You are to me likewise.

I can’t give you everything,
but I'll always be your child,
and I will adorn your life
like clouds do in the sky.

Dear Momma,
I don’t know if  I’ll ever be your hero,
But I swear you will always be mine.

Kody dibble Nov 2016

Stencil-streamed mud-clipped boots,
Eiffel tower disguise,
Brilliantly wrapped in a corona,
Of sadness and delight

Un-burdened I dance,
Stinging silently across,
Aqua colors,
Symposium of disaster they call,
Whom life?

You speak of as if it was betrothed to you alone,
Or some ghast faint reflection
Someday the purpose of creation,
will creatively in-twine, over
and over again

Dis-purse, dis-purse,
like cool mists of glee,
showers of gladness,
inside droplets of peace

 Nov 2016 Kody

The light touches
of the wind,
caress the blush
in reddened cheeks.

Gentle fingers abscond
with the moisture
in hapless tears.

Teasing playfully,
the obstinacy
of wayward strands.

Inciting a smile
from a heavy heart,
lifting off the anvil
that carry all fears.

Kody dibble Oct 2016

Silencing call of passion,
When you talk of 1800's style vintage
Perception no-one knows, but when you see
Gross underwrites with turning phone dials
You wake
A part of you discovering you
Like a wheel chasing itself you laugh
Hradly suspicious of anything else
I hear the fragrance of Canada is
Calm except for the penal regrets
Of solemn senses

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