Proposition(December 19, 011)

Proposition
December 19, 2011


The haunting determination,
the fear in desperation,
the joys of dominating,
the search for a destination.

The covered warmth,
a sunset so bright,
slowly turning away from sight,
returning to starry night.

The collision of time,
an illusion of mine,
if I had a dime,
you’d be the color of a lime.

The sweet dream,
the lonesome dark,
the gallant defeat,
the quickening proposition.

As Winter is Upon Us(October 27, 2011)

As Winter is Upon Us
October 27, 2011

As winter is upon us,
and the seas freeze around us,
we just glare at the sun,
we look to the sky,
and wonder why.

Time has passed everything by,
like a gentle sigh,
it moves by,
hardly registering as it ought,
the hands on a grandfather clock.

The trees shake in the wind,
one day green,
the next looking dreary and mean.
How odd is the scene,
where everything is empty and lean.

Memories fall from our brain,
going astray,
our minds drift away,
trying to stay fit,
when everything goes a miss.

When dreams mix with reality,
the colors blend,
all dripped onto the plain white floor,
the warmth entering a house,
that shyly shuts the door.

Glitter from sun light,
to snow bright,
shimmer from great height,
hits the water just right.
A twinkle in the starry winter night.

The Warmth of Sun(October 18, 2011)

The Warmth of Sun
October 18, 2011


Stomach in knots,
feeling caught,
what a horrid disposition,
as if overwrought.

Laying in bed,
wanting to cry,
hear just silence,
not knowing why.

The sun is still shinning,
the air a little crisp,
go outside,
it shouldn't be missed.

The shadow behind you,
is shown more precise,
it's hard to take note,
the warmth of sun is quite nice,

Eyes see perfect pictures,
if only to grab the shots,
the camera in the house,
unable to run in boots.

The distraction worked,
feeling better,
enough to smile,
maybe even write,

a thank you letter.

Sort of(October 18, 2011)

Sort of
October 18, 2011


Have instead of half,
enital instead of initial,
where does my brain go?
Surely it fell asleep.

Guessed instead of guest,
my instead of me,
how simple this would be,
if only it worked properly.

I know it isn’t that bad,
but it makes me sad,
knowing the only reason I write,
is because there’s a spell checker in sight.

It’s alright,
phonics was never my thing,
like a bad dream,
at least I know what I mean.

You know like,
Arthur instead of author.

Sort of.
Or not.

As You Fly in the Wind(October 9, 2011)

 As You Fly in the Wind
October 9, 2011

From hand to hand,
your gaze is held.
Captured by the ones loved,
you escape each finger tip.
As you fly in the wind,
the world is too big to hold.
Every stretch across the sea,
leads you from me.
An adventure you will find,
in the dark and light.
Sparkling with rain,
or covered in dew.
I’ll always want you,
and your knew.
The things now known,
learned from a time.
Many faces,
have yet been seen.
Not many have grasped,
the fulfillment of your stare.

 

Moreover(September 16, 2011)

Moreover
September 16, 2011

The board gets erased away,
along with this lucid day,
surely as dust collects on a cloak,
and the time ticks slowly on a clock.

While the weather is torn,
between sunny weather,
or a storm,
the flowers grow. Moreover,

The lights will fade,
even the brightest star,
lives its all,
no matter how far.

Thoughts will leave,
even if it’s in need,
or dreams will change,
in all the haze.

The waves will break,
even the last piece of cake,
and the date as of late,
is harder to commemorate.

A Piano Piece I'll Write(August 12, 2011)

A Piano Piece I'll Write
August 12, 2011

In the attempt to write a piano piece,
the one that seemed so easy to begin,
but so difficult to go on,
I finally realized what to do,
was just sit and talk with you.

Leave the piano to rest,
until I was ready to play,
and continue on the day.

But as I sit and sit,
nothing strikes a word of thought,
to explain anything I ought.

So I'm trying to figure out,
how to communicate a simple thought,
then it hits me,
out of the blue,
a special way to just say hi to you.

It mat be extravagant,
but in the end it just might be the trick,
just the ticket.

A piano piece I'll write,
I'll sit at my desk with a paper or two,
then after that I'll go back to the piano,
oh how I've missed you,

just so you'll smile,
and we'd finally talk for awhile,
and maybe actually have a conversation.

That would be worth playing,
a thousand times in my head.
Of course that's already been done.
But why not make it a thousand and one?