Dear Stranger, I offer up a fragment of my inner soul flecked with flawed feelings and misplaced melancholy in less-than-perfect verse merely in an effort to release the caged bird trapped within and to be a looking glass into which your own reflection can quietly gaze without having to admit aloud that we both are only human - and at times we are not that...
Tags » Attempts At Poetry
Mary had a little lamb you know how stories go... She fed him propaganda seeds and did that creature grow! Expansion forced a shedding that revealed the inner beast Before Mary could intervene it had her on a leash The wolf now had the children eating from its paw a diet of fanaticism - unsubstantiated; raw Soon, everywhere the wolf would lead it's flock was sure to go and where they finally found themselves is not that hard to know... 21 more words
The storm raged again today the winds ripped at the edges of a frayed mind electric flashes warning of chaos unleashed control lost Words like lightening bolts scorched souls and silenced tongues and eyes flashed like sharpened daggers The intentions were clear, the boundaries were laid with barbed wire the sign was brightly lit: Here be dragons!
PART I There once was a man named Power who sat in his ivory tower and poured molten lava (while sipping on java) on the masses who were turning sour Part II There once was a child named Rebellion who rode on a gleaming white stallion He spread the word that they'll never be heard as long as they swallow the Valium Part III There was an uprising so violent and the masses were no longer silent The child took the crown and donned a new gown and built his own ivory island Part IV The child sent out his battalions while he made his wine from scallions He got power-drunk and his policies stunk but his wife bore a child named Rebellions... 8 more words
Opening the dusty suitcase holding the past, anxiously rummaging in an effort not to see those angular things not belonging to me - those things that were thrust into my arms and were to heavy to hold Moving my hands eagerly, swiftly over old, crusty hurts and wrongs until I find those childhood songs of comfort and a photograph of me before the scars That smile! 32 more words
The lesser-striped swallow sings her strange, happy song while basking on my sunny roof I know she'll be leaving before long - the changing winds are proof that the cold is encroaching and travelling South but, for now she is coaching the flight of her young as she glides through the air... 22 more words