Sanity’s an eel
A fishy unscrupulous
Imagined construct.

Like a needle in
A haystack it’s hard to find
Hides right in plain sight.

To be of sound mind
One has to staunchly silence
Incessant critics.

More like pacify
The demons and nurture the
Glorious angels.
To move forward,one has to constantly look inward.
Anderson M May 5
On the seashore
Her back an arrow
She marvels at nature’s flawless flow.
Luxuriant hair cascades to caress
Her waspish waist as if to stress
The point that it’s a beautiful mess.
As the waters make fleeting
Acquaintance with the seeming
“Stationary" shores, her figure’s spellbinding.
Her dress hugs her lithe frame tight
As all manner of inconsistency takes flight
And what remains is an ethereal sight.
It’s clear as crystal that grace
Is outstanding and seldom commonplace.
Bought a new phone,couldn't help
capturing this  sight
inspiring time to pay homage
even if for a split second.
Anderson M Apr 27
Words go in hibernation
They hide deep where
Nothing can seep, we search,
Seek, grope even probe
To utter dismay.
Why do they do this?
I think it’s so
Their potency is intact
Especially in the face of abuse,
Misuse and overuse.
At their own 'opportune' time,
they make themselves manifest
when we least expect.
At this point I might caution that
one ought not to despair.
Anderson M Apr 20
Resting against the backdrop
Of a host of clouds
Yearning for adulation
Gracefully swaying her hips in
Brusque jerks, she colorfully
In deliberate detail
Vivaciously enchants would be onlookers.
#Acrostic #Roygbiv
Anderson M Apr 18
Time hiccups exactly sixty times
In a minute, maybe it’s to affirm
That it too is mortal, that it’s got
A life of its own and that it’s absolute.
Who or what controls time? Who knows?
Isn’t it sand, escaping right through
Our hands no matter how
Hard we tighten our grip.
As happenings quickly become the
Revered fabric of the past
Maybe it’s best we live to the fullest in the now.
And how do we live to the fullest in the now?
Anderson M Apr 11
We could love and be kind
With no strings attached.
save for the heartstrings.
Anderson M Apr 9
Heart’s heavy, heart’s light
Middle ground is bliss
Pendulum to which heart’s attached
Is always restless, seldom
Stationary always in motion.
Controlling the pendulum is akin
To achieving perfection, a rare feat.
Can I sever the pendulum? NO
It’s out of question, I can
Only choose to live in the present moment.
Bliss is scotch kiss,one savors the taste just as long as it lasts
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