#poemspoetry
It truly hurts, even though I'm here
Yet I seem like a white pencil
I truly understand
It was all like a quill
Though I hold it tightly
They play with scissors
Yet some flowers are still blooming,
They nourish my heart
Even when I hurt ,
It heals me like an ember
Iam between the twilight
Still holding like a root,
Knowing it may fall
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 1:43 PM UTC
Somewhere, however, I was stuck...
Bearing all the pain
I lay down on the floor-
the hush of healing wind
Comes closer to me,
As if it's knows my pain,
Knows me
Well.....
That's a story you can’t read
Let me say--
It's so beautiful,
Like a dream you don't want
To wake up from.
It was like hoping for light,
But I learned from it ,
To make it luminous, to live it.
That's a story you can’t read,
Cause it was written on my soul--
As if it was meant
For me.....
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 12:50 PM UTC
On top of old smokey
All covered with hair
There was a place
Where the bear was quite bare
He wasn't too shiney
He was covered with fuzz
So he kept on his cap
That's what a fuzzy fuzz does.
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 8:28 PM UTC
The end of summer rains
Fall softly to the Earth.
God’s tears!
God’s gentle tears!
For the school bells call
The Lions of the school yard
And the Lambs must go too!
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 5:33 PM UTC
Poetry
Is something that you feel
Is something that you write
Is something that is wonderful
Is something that is close to your heart
Is something that is special
Is something to hide or shine
Is someone who can love
Is someone who can share
Is someone who can care
Is someone who can tell a short story
Is someone who can explain say without saying words
Is something I love to do
Is something that comes easy when in the mood words flow just like the wind
Some make sense and some don’t
Poetry
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 12:49 PM UTC
When floating on down avenues of deep subconscious
remember to stare upwards for at least 10 minutes a day
and contemplate the life of a cloud;
To that transitory vapour,
project with your iris the world you wish to manifest
in passing minutes
towards that passing station-
internal vision dominates
the human mind speculates
and accommodates,
what it wants to see -
with each passing minute
with each wasted day
Life flashes before eyes
concrete and grass
lying down and getting lost
in a deep death that breeds
everything and nothing,
Dissipating contradictions in the sky.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC