Bruises and excuses

Can you hide it from yourself is the trick.

Beat all the way to he!! feeling only railroads need tracks, ABRUPTLY again life interrupting ,re-enter passion without the strife.

Goodness or greatness rolling about with a perverted smile it will settle in but will take awhile.

Shadows now partaking in play a splash of excitement mellowing into casual contentment ,strumming up new feelings without a drummer or a fife.

Inhibitions now few, set aside of a mind left temporarily askew,mellow with age like a good brew, not yet honest hidden feeling meant to beguile.

Again forced to rise not allowed a compromise ,taking a stand must be done horizontally,another morning in a passion play of life.

Simpler while being ignored ,facing up better than racing away ,it must entail taking on a new style .

Simply wishing for new days & different ways can not be enough so passionate we now play
rather than take on all the strife. R.C.

If poetry dies
We all fall apart.
If poetry dies,
Will the sun not shine anymore?
Because the sun is poetic in its own way.
It radiates.
It illuminates.
It inspires.
And if poetry dies
Art dies.
Poetry is everything.
Its existed for centuries.
See this is brought people together since forever ago.
And today, it brings us together.
you and me
And whoever else's poems you delight yourself with.
We create a community.
Here
On this site.
People from all over the world.
Each of us with a story to tell
And one talent we show
poetry
Isnt it great?
A tradition that must live on.
The art of emotion
Some complex
Others delightfully simple.
Poetry
Creates us,
Our creativity
And the desire to write something new
Something **great

Loose congregation of words ,mixed syllables,sounds ascending to  an annunciation made upon announcement
Clashing conundrums of verbs accented with adjectives  ,while crashing and dashing looking for a place to stay
Confections with conflictions searching for reasons to become more easily resounded
Papier-mâché used as the blind box  waiting to reveal its hidden appeal ,will we use sticks for new words fray.


Teachers use their rulers to help crack the skin or  layer of drooling uninterested information gatherers
  Finding synonyms is easier with a hungrier  fool  ,yet opposites distract if paying pledges to the papers
Finding the unknown fabulous riches still hiding inside is best without the blindfold ,hearing proper direction is what matters
Cracking the outer code ,scattering packages of messages is titillating especially if involved  as crossword players

Clarification containers from Macmillan help refine an ongoing array of writing gone astray
Pulling new or familiar sounds to another level ,hollow waiting to filled with tasty sweets
True copy that has been pasted,not wasted gathered into changing shapes in a new way
Can make our day, just right for many to explore the contents, blindly poking formulating new treats

Thesaurus as a party tool could it be  taking on the shape of a walrus
Antonyms with  many wrappings ,nuggets or nougats of wisdom
Wordy party favors masked new flavors seeking to be savored ,hidden like walnuts
Players programmed with reading ritual learn to approach life with new optimism.
R.C.

Fresh thoughts from a foaming mind  almost surreal bordering on blind

Reaching for responses ,pureness withheld, wanting a glimmer of brightness

Receiving information isn't always perceiving it,  or often reminiscing to find

Stalling,stationary but stalwart while stumbling for a shimmer,sudden guidance

No mask for  a seemingly simple task ,a potion from a magic flask responding in kind

Eye for an I ,my tail for a tale ,all for an explosion of expression breaking out of silence

New view is now passe ,looking around for a  sound ,now into a corner of a real bind

Rivers turning to trickles,forcing from unstable streams ,wishing to again flow from hydrants

Black turning to bright light ,Webster screaming ,relaxed and beaming,finally another design

No longer profound ready for a new round write it ,don't fight it finding new alignments.
R.C.

My body forces me to sit,I talk a little less,I try to think of tomorrow NOT what I coulda,woulda,shoulda done.

Even when restless I remain focused,maybe today possibly tomorrow,always getting it right ,no slouch never a doubt,possibilities are endless when always moving forward.

Brighter lights need more energy the fuel is often from the soul, concentrations of calculations often leave me lacking, the simpler rhythms an easier goal,there can be no detection show no rejection. IT'S FOR THE CHILD.    R.C.