Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ken Pepiton Oct 23
Frame a dative… spelchekovian science
show me…
for the mind, a recipient, then come the
the artist's intuitive hearing silent songs,
long after the alcoholic angst of the victors,

the good old boys, discerning whiskey from rye.

The mean dad's that haunt the fragile heros,
shirking duty to the institutions that reared you, boy.

There was an old boy's school at Los Alamos,
wasn't there, yes, the spiritual making of citizens
had occasion to fall from the annals of America's West.

Hard times don't last. Hard people do.
Too true to dispute, replied the peacemaker on watch.

If you read, you've read this far, making you ready
to rethink why you feel good reading lines ready
to be rethunk, in your mind, at the same time.

As any then in any future with electricity
at cloud of all knowing farthest sofareach.

Readers who write and share ideal viral aspects,
a touch of clear joy, shameless, blameless naked glee.
Such sow seed, we bits alive.
We can resee the scenes of Panic,
and recall manic antics that felt holy at the time,

there are all the good days that ever left a mark,
at your behest, for your per-use knowing, on demand,
ask, any mystery, show thyself not evil, prove my trust,

gnoshit, gnosis initiates are rare theses days,
or so any hermit guru would say if he were you,

have I not access to the cloud, using cred from
God knows when, did I not lay my heart, mind, body soul,
and spirit on the alter with Jefferson, in memorium,
"Eternal hostility toward any form of tyranny…
super positioned right mind measure, mensur,… meander,

sorrow, tomorrow, today we play,
a robocall, potential spam, I answer to anchor. Real time
Tzimtzums, pops can leave a body breathless, in a future else
when then this all seemed ok, not aspiritual, yes, yustsay
aspiring to our higher minds lowest sorted issues,
to hold an audience, pending, hooks, we need seven, min-
imum, holy gnoshit boogers of amberised gnosisnotdrips.

Precious memories, how they linger,
how she thought she caught me cheating at her game.

Wisdom won me, wombed man, brought me to my knees,
if you please,
you walk upright, bold as brass heated seven times hotter
than any metal wonts to be, this side of the sun.

Have you never seen the blemishes, sun spots, raging
storms, time and chance, when and where, here we are,

lucky us, we are alive in 2023 before the folly of mass-
education by way of animation, and literature referencing.

Drama has a value, reason allows, making war devalues it,
turns it to **** only members see, select audience,
the seekers first see Vonnegut ******* {;*}
I think of those who think in this world, and use precious time to just think what we can do, we can make moments of practically perfect peace, no noise.
Paul Butters Mar 30
It’s blue sky brightly sunny
As we await the Easter Bunny.
Still some clouds about
Rain might have a shout.

Remembering when Jesus died on the cross
Only to beat Death
So no longer a loss.

Let’s throw off our shackles too
Enjoy those Easter eggs,
Quaff a golden brew
And drain the barrel to the dregs.

It might be a crime to tire of rhyme
But give me a minute or two
Rhyme isn’t a favourite of mine
So I might not carry this through.

Forsythias, Daffies and now Mahonias
Gold flowers full of sun
Thinking of Begonias
Adding to the fun.

The Amaryllis must be out
Giving us a mighty shout
Other flowers too
What a lovely view.

**** and Robins are flitting around
Making lots of birdsong sound.
We’ve just sprung forward,
As you know,
So Nature is putting on
A bit of a show.

Symbolic eggs will soon be eaten
That chocky taste just can’t be beaten.
So enjoy Easter everyone.
Let’s hope we’ll be basking in the sun.

Paul Butters

© PB 30\3\2023.
Steve Feb 12
The flowers pass in waves
Waving as they go
Colours fit to burst
Petals pure as snow

The serenade of spring
The love new life will bring
Blossom on the trees
Fragrance on the breeze

While flowers pass in waves
Waving like they know
Colours fit to burst
Petals pure on show

The cavalcade of spring
When pigeons coo and sing
Heart strings stretched out tight
Each day’s a new delight.

(Plucking in the night ;)
Renn Pat Nov 2022
As the Earth turns,
Does the sun rise?
I pray this world is more than a trick on my eyes.
And when it sets,
Is it really out?
Will my life do the same when it's my turn to bout?
I'll find a way to rotate and spin, start again and begin.
The boy I loved before you was so beautiful- but only on the outside,

A handsome face that hid a wicked grin,
He was a master of disguise,

The boy I loved before you swept me off my feet- but only for a little while,

He built me up and then he knocked me down,
And he did it with a smile,

The boy I loved before you destroyed me- but only for a little while,

He left my pieces broken, scattered,

But you fixed them,
And you did it with a smile.
Matthew Renahan Dec 2021
They're's always a season,
They're's always a time,
They're's always a reason,
Not to feel fine,

But hope is a friend,
Always quite close,
With help there to rend,
When needed the most,

If we trap ourselves in the dark,
Our fears take control,
But if in the light we embark,
We shall renew our soul,

Fear has no power here,
In our mind or our heart,
We were made in love so dear,
And it's in love we find our start.
A word of hope and love.
Zywa Jul 2021
The holiness of life
is not that critical when you're young
adults are so afraid

to put it at risk
but the limits lie further
than their worries tell

if you just remain elastic
not vegetating undead
as a saint according

to expectations, but consuming
who you are because of who you are
as a fire

without death
Collection "Lilith's Powers" #112
Zywa May 2021
The house of my youth

has been rebuild: younger bricks –

for younger people.
Collection "WoofWoof"
Next page