"shon" poems
Your hair stripped of the colour that once was dark as night
Now reflects the years gone by as it's slowly turned to white
Those loving hands that held me and taught me right from wrong
No longer look the same they bend as each new day goes on
Your eyes which did once sparkle like emaralds of green
Look so tired and almost vacant a look I've never seen
Your posture is no longer ,upright standing tall
You move so slow ,I stand behind to catch you if you fall
Your voice a silent whisper
Your memory long but gone
But your heart of love it's never changed
Like a light it's always shon
So many years have passed us by
Now i can clearly see
How the roles have now reversed
You once looked after me
I'm here to show you patience
Tender loving care
Reflecting all that you have shown by always being there
I'm here to tell you thank you
Speaking from a grateful heart
I will be with you until the end
As you've been with me right from the start
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
Shon Goku Setsu, cleanly translated
Means "The Wrath of the Raging Demon"
I happen to have one following me
And much like a corrupt politician, it's constantly schemin
Some days I awake with a spring in my step
Others I have to force myself up
Some days I want to drink all life has to offer
Some days I can't even lift up the cup
I'm sick of being miserable! I'm sick of writing about it!
DA-N IT DEMON I HAVE DREAMS TO CHASE DOWN AND GOALS TO ACCOMPLISH
"Shut up Nero! misery is all you know!"
This demon won't relent, directing me into channeling the Satsui No Hado
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
Tá tú an réalt ag taitneamh
i mo domhan dorcha
nach bhfuil rud ar bith sa saol seo
Ní ba mhaith liom a dhéanamh ar do shon
Ba mhaith liom dul ar fud an domhain seo
Ba mhaith liom troid ar bith Demon
Má chiallaigh sé tú a choinneáil
ag mo thaobh.
Tá tú mo Shlánaitheoir
Mo shlánú
Mo bheannacht
Ní leor faoi cheilt a dhéanamh mar sin
Is breá liom tú Kaitlyn
le gach snáithín de mo á
Is breá liom tú
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
There’s a place on 12th and Hawthorne
and one on 12th and Morrison
I want to take you there
and talk about how I care.
we just have to pay the bus fare
it’s just on the 70…
no where near my Kennedy
we’ll walk a couple blocks
it could be more like five
that’s ok we’ll be at high dive
I hope we do see mo.
she’ll be playing sad love ballads.
if we end up seeing shon
we’ll think he’s the Foo fighters lad
then there could be dan.
he’s still trying to be a man.
we’ll walk a few blocks more
there’s an attraction here
it’s called roadside, dear.
we can have a few beers.
we’ll sit on a lovely swing
and I’ll talk about this thing
I want to take you there.
however I’m just too scared.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Say you'll remember me
Even on your darkest days
When you feel I'm drifting away
Say you'll always love me
Whilst I've ran to some place new
Your thoughts of me never blue
Promise me you'll wait
Until I've found myself;
Til I can be 'oneself'
Promise me you will not cry
Even though I'm in pain
Don't bring yourself to shame
I promised you I'd never leave
But now I'm gone
But it's because of you that my spirit shon
I will always love you
Just try to remember
I'll be back with you, every December
(K R W)
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
The skilled user of words, the wizard conjurer that provoke your thoughts.
I ought to be sentenced to death.
For an enlightened mind such as mine for the crime of influencing young minds
You see the Government hate visionaries like me, so they call the disciplinary, to disrupt revolutionaries, COINTELPRO, look them up if you don’t know, for all you conspiracy theorist, I am the head of realist **** shot calling
You might as well call me Shon the abolitionist.
When it comes to such a wicked being such as me, they call to question my thought for knowledge and I tell them
As the practitioner of hard knocks, my quest for power is almost pestilent; people say knowledge is power
But what they don’t tell you, is power comes from applying the knowledge
To acknowledge the most dangerous man in the room isn’t the man with the gun nor the thirst for power
But the man in the shrouded darkness waiting to pounce, call me Rockefeller and Rothschild.
I am almost out of time but please forgive me, my mind sits in an higher dimension
My mentality is overpriced that’s why the naïve mind is as common as head lice
As I am the sole provider to the zeitgeist.
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
clothed in what the eye meets
her beauty shon through
the sun dies down at night
but does not replace the moon
pacific in her eyes
beauty in her smile
waiting for the right man
to walk her down the isle
twisted by her imagination
deep thoughts circulate her brain
enclosed by incubation
she could not escape the pain
clothed in what she wants,
tables turned, bridges burned
to except herself
she learned
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 9:09 AM UTC
She used to be whole,
She used to have
Galaxies inside
Her mind and soul.
You could have looked
Into her eyes
And watched the
Stars being born.
Her smile shon
Like the sun.
And her laughter could
Have cured the earth.
But then he came along.
He ignored the universe
Within her,
He covered her smile
Like the clouds cover
The sun on a rainy
Day.
And yet she didn't care.
She didn't care because
He was as wonderful
And as mysterious
As the deepest part
Of the ocean.
He gave her ripples
Of love, when
She deserved tidal waves.
And instead of creating
Storms for her, he
Created storms to destroy
Her.
it slowly did.
He plucked every
Star out of her soul,
And her smile was
No longer a burning
Flame.
And so she wasn't filled
With galaxies anymore.
The dark matter had
Consumed her
And left her no more.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
in the spring
and agave falling
with rain coming in..
my heart a mad thing
light a caste stone
all blue and
emerald green!
i remember the springs
lord in crete
in crete..
ii
when i was young
and awed by nearly
everything
the blasted beat..
my brain a fried egg..
i looked in the mirror
and stared
who the **** was that there..
the blasted heat
the autumn sun
and wind
and i was a beach
***
in my winter hut
the day a paper´s cut
away fom a soft
blinding night..
iii
when i was young..
iv
small bamboo constructions
right bang next to the surf..
with some red wine..
thus illiminating
the rent man..
stars and the moon..
and phospherous..
i had my guitar
and sang a song..
v
when i was young..
vi
in crete
in spring
is breath taken
from sweet gods
lip..
ambrosia broken..
a flailed heart trip
the blossems and a load
of pure beauty..
in crete
in spring
i found me..
i observed others
do like wise..
they shon and carried on..
in spring
when i was young
played backgammon
and drank cognac
no problem
no problem...
vi
to sail the clipper
the crow´s nest quiver
s in the grey brine
gulls dip their
soaring smiles
lost in mine..
love in horizons
lost in prayer
late too shiver
eyes of god in
bathes my soul
one great river..!
v
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
A one hit wonder
A single rhyme all that he could create
History, a golden oldie, fossilized and lost in the muddy mires of mimic
His yearn for praise waltzed over the staves
His strive for applause dropped black notes barre for barre
The rhythm of his heartbeat on percussion
Soul humming the melody
Blood and sweat running over his Martin acoustic's strings
He gave his best, he gave his all
Wonder, did you perhaps give too much?
The notes echo continually on my playlist
But his name fades with every tick of the clock
A bright white-hot flame
That shon too bright to last
Burned the remaining sheet music in the fire
'Where is he now?' I wonder
'Where is he now?'
Where are you now, Wonder?
Where are you now?
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 10:20 AM UTC