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343 · Apr 2020
Idiom Man in the Shade
Tom MacDuff Apr 2020
If you try to hold sand too tightly,
It slips through your fingers,
Love isn't too sightly,
It poisons and it lingers.

Even a brave lion in a cave,
Will starve and fall If it doesn't change,
From that fate, love can save,
But without, is far more strange.

The best time to blossom is now,
The old idiom man said,
Trees planted in the past don't grow,
And down my long path I'm led.

Every story and poem ever told,
Whisper me meaning and truth,
And although touching souls is gold,
I've got to lift up my youth.

I lie in an orange field of green grass,
Emotions overcome by colour,
And this freedom might be my last,
I don't want this busy world any fuller.

Music and nature is enough,
Oh forest in love's shade,
Take these blue feelings away.
A poem about a relationship and the wise man inside all of our heads. This is what he told me. Hope you like it.
245 · Apr 2020
Thought Voyage
Tom MacDuff Apr 2020
Five thousand thought voyages,
The victims sought triages,
The players sought blood,
And we cried through our eyes where we stood.

One substance stupidity,
Causes morbidity,
The captain of deaths
Pays homage to leader’s shibboleths.
I feel as though every poet has to write at least one poem about war during their lifetime. This is my first submission to this poetic venture.
204 · Apr 2020
Musical Tundra
Tom MacDuff Apr 2020
the thoughtlessness pushes them forward
an empty musical order
they go tranced with no former
with no sense of horror
nowhere and onward
transfixed tortured
bleak of notes
cornered
tundra
The result of some experimentation with interesting structure.
188 · Apr 2020
Surly Cat Being Ejected
Tom MacDuff Apr 2020
The fireworks of people pass past his head,
He has no time to wonder what was said,
Collecting his hallow heavy possessions,
With no time to recognize depressions.

They shake his hand and beat him with the other,
A madness creeping like the memory of another,
They call it endless, he sees nothing but nothing,
And yet they keep calling themselves loving.

The similar friendly fellows slip away,
Amassing a gallery of paper, his paintings are no longer on display,
“a beauty to life” no longer has significance,
And the eyes of the people are led in a trance.

Stairs leading up, down and to the right,
To wonder what was left really requires sight,
A black background that everything wanders through,
It seems like you all know exactly what to do.

Compare your portrait to the mirror,
Make sure of not one error,
Countenance continuity,
Visions shouldn’t be compared to reality.
Written based on the Dr Seuss painting under the same name. Self reflection sometimes needs an outside influence to be grounded in reality. Hope you like it

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