Mar 14 Sjr1000
CA Guilfoyle
In the evening comes the dim light, the swooping away of day,
the blue, gray clouds, the turbulent air of wild birds
small specs, black and disappearing.
After awhile only quiet,
and then a certain silence settles in
it moves like fog, alongside the moon
it comes cold, blanketing the soul
a depth of space unknown
a well of darkness, undiscovered
the losing of this day, this light
and in the long, lingering hours
dwelling in the dark caved places
touching the soul and flooding the heart
the crashing waves will come
to break one wildly apart.
  Mar 13 Sjr1000
Dear reality
Where have you been
Haven't seen you
I don't know when
Living in
This crazy realm
Could have used you
At the helm
But here you are
Again at last
The dogs of doom
Are on my ass
Traveler Tim
Sjr1000 Mar 10
I'm working
I'm trying
I'm giving it all I can give
I'm working  I'm trying
This life will take
What ever you can give
I'm working
I'm trying
I'm doing the best
That I can
They hired me
To do a job
The job I don't know
How to do
This life
It'll take you
Down roads you
never knew
But we're proceeding
Despite all odds
Who knew
It would be so
To just make
it through
It's always 2:30
I'm working
I'm trying
I'm giving it all
I gotta give
I'm tired
I'm sure
I'm fired

My life is all
I know how to do.
  Mar 9 Sjr1000
Sally A Bayan
.....a day's, or a night's inspiration
just walks away
and escapes my mental grasp
an idea, pregnant with possibilities,
suddenly becomes infertile, like
a barren woman, or a wasteland
i try to get hold of it, glides away, falling along the
edges of my imagination.
i am bereft,
when my muse has left.

i eagerly dip, and wiggle my toes
on a sunny blue river that
manifests itself in my mind,
bursting with promises of new insights...
yet, a slightly curving path is hard to ignore
for, it easily presents itself......and
i give in to its swirls of unfulfilled
dreams, and....sublime moments,
hovering, like a hummingbird my own space,
there in neverlandia, where i'm left
pondering, about a life......unlived.
my toe-dipping moments,
my rare moments of serenity,
are short-lived........ruffled,
besieged by old shadows,
because....phantoms of fear
refuse to die.

when treading this curved path,
unwanted, unexpected
circumstances occur,
and, all of a sudden,
my muse emerges from hiding.
inspirations bloom,
like mushrooms,
than those that elude(d) me.

it takes a while,
for love and life
to rhyme.


Copyright February 10, 2018

  Mar 9 Sjr1000
patty m
Outside my garden wall, traffic swishes, yet in this place of rock and sand, cool moss and good earth, I lose myself in reflection.

secret shadow land
my deeper self plants firmly
spreading fertile roots

bird feeder robbers
springing from the sweet gum tree
three playful squirrels

even in chill air
splashing sounds twitter loudly
when birds come to bathe

Precious relics are buried here. Baby teeth collected by the tooth fairy, a tiny lock of baby's hair symbolic of her first haircut.
Crystals, quartz,  a single silver button, and spider webs gossamer as silk

lines drawn in the sand
speak a language all their own
whispering softly.

Autumn days warm as butter quickly change to chilly nights.  
While I, a contented cat enjoy a cornucopia of earthy colors and pungent scents; Chrysanthemums, lilies and wheat, surrounded by harvest candles, their flickering teases shadow as it dances across the wall.
Mums and marigolds
help to brighten hearth and heart
mini-suns glowing

Happiness is abandoned nests, the fledglings gone having found their wings.  For now I'll claim them and set them among the stone elves and tiny pumpkins.

One perfect blue egg
alone in deserted nest
dreaming it can fly

Wind's echoing rasp meets soft night's descent sending eveyone closer to the fire.  It's too early for snow, but the scent is in the air.  A polar vortex is what they're calling this fast exchange from fall to winter chill.  

outside the windows
tree monsters flail their limbs
lashing and thrashing

Little eyes are getting sleepy.  Time for prayers and a bedtime story, then kisses as she's tucked warmly into bed.

as today concludes
I sit alone with my thoughts
sipping strong black tea

unconscious bounty
poem seedlings blossoming
grace a tired mind

sleep and renewal
meet with a dusting of snow
on the evergreens.

Even as I clear away snow from the sidewalks, the birds gather hoping for my gift of peanuts and bread. .  
Feathered friends you know when I open the door, all gathering to sing your morning songs from the eves and bushes.  
Your joyousness is contagious and I too hum a song enjoying the crisp feel of the cold. .

Glorious new day
the rapture of whiteness sings
hymns of renewal

Tiny footprints trail
disappearing in bushes
softly fluttering
haibun is a form I love, either prose or diary entries mixed with haiku and senryu.a
Sjr1000 Feb 28
Aging is confusing
How old would you be
if you didn't know how old you are

Microwave ovens
Kitchen range timers
Updates too
Timers all around ticking down
ticking down our time

Good morning

5 minutes to go
Forty seconds
I know

Ding goes the timer
Another day is done

I guess in the end
five four three two one.
How old would you a Satchel Paige quote, he was an ageless pitcher, actually no one knew how old he really was, legend has it he pitched well into his sixties
Next page