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Nov 2019 · 68
Hyperbolic Lung
Mark Rohlf Nov 2019
ten thousand times
you repeat the line
mine is the lucky number

what is real what is true
just what we perceive
like the collective views
the sky is blue

a linear eccentric
quips from the hip

i never have but
she will soon

arc a phrase
tell a truth
perpetuate a lie

but right on time
the real is revealed
with the curve of your words
you bark at the moon
truth lies perception reality
Sep 2019 · 241
Looking Out
Mark Rohlf Sep 2019
scanning from my perch
staring out the window pane

imaging my path, a quiet place
visioned the trail
i have followed in vain

i to the right
as the herd left

did i hold back
or stand in judgement
above the rest

still hunting a clue
while guarding the line

what is there that i might find

survey from my grave
peering out the window pane

could i have seen
beat, circumspect

the window a mirror
and i my reflect
First draft. I might tweak this some more. I have been accused of over analyzing. This may be a reflection of that propensity
Sep 2019 · 256
Mark Rohlf Sep 2019
***** through the tube
baby to the ****

instant mobility
of the noob

shuttle to the moon
rocket to mars

life is motion
under the stars
Just a quick thought on how life requires motion, in many different ways
Apr 2019 · 157
Hills At Dawn
Mark Rohlf Apr 2019
rave to the rolling hills
lit with the warmth of dawn
and the rich warm orange of dusk

respect to the souls
who pain to see
the beauty in rust

blithe to the imaginations
who seek a higher call
armed with the courage
of original thought

thanks to you
who climbed the hill
and found the charm

the one
who’s seen
the hills at dawn
A collection of words I have had in my journal for a while now.
Mar 2019 · 1.3k
Theater People
Mark Rohlf Mar 2019
a medley of mange
this group of misfits
laughing dancing
and grazing the strange

unconventional freaks
outlandish and odd
parroting our priests
and glib of our gods

mocking our trials
poking fun of our kings
curating our flaws
as they jump and sing

bent and dimented
indignant to drones
lippy and pert
these rolling stones

theater people
I'm working on a painting of the title, Theater People. This collection of words will accompany the painting.
Feb 2019 · 222
Haiku At Work
Mark Rohlf Feb 2019
sitting at my desk
writing a haiku at work
i am not working
Jan 2019 · 183
That Man There
Mark Rohlf Jan 2019
see that man

its that man there

happy in his world
but lonely in his vines
his smile lights the room
but pains in his eyes

in a world of me me me
benevolent to the core
he listens instead
but shows no bore

that man over there
humane to the bone
but the banner of his vision
is waved by him alone

watch him and see
the man who fell
looking again
that man is me

dont be mistook
misguided or mislead
the man thats me
could be you as well
#introspective #man #altruism
Jan 2019 · 709
One Zero
Mark Rohlf Jan 2019
fear no love
love no war
right no left
hawk no dove

red no blue
black no white
tone no tint
wrong no right

stop no go
drop no lift
seek no hide
wind no drift

echo will respond
harvest to seed
bird will egg
and life will go on
#binary #repeat #life
Jan 2019 · 1.3k
The Color of Lies
Mark Rohlf Jan 2019
red green blue
converge to white
reveal what's true
ever of spite

yellow red blue
diverge from white
expressed in color
received in grey
or the other way

yellow red blue
converge to black
yellow cyan magenta
follow suit

reflection refraction
doppler shift

wave and photon
linger the grift
Jan 2019 · 1.1k
The Box
Mark Rohlf Jan 2019
belief is a box
open at the top
but still you stand

conscious like rocks
atoms like fear
lay tight
of change so
still you stand

aware the nuance of life
cannot be explained in one breath
so still you stand
... in the box
Jan 2019 · 2.1k
The Cleansing of Color
Mark Rohlf Jan 2019
the choppers blades
the cleansing of color

twist in the wind
like the means of unfit mothers
of unfounded snare

who's revolution
of her weighted intent
should be held to account
when justness is spent

the judges, juries
and executioners trail
hovering the bluster
as appellants flail


the choppers blades
the cleansing of color....

— The End —