Tags » Attempts At Poetry

Flawed Offering

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...

Attempts At Poetry


Lawn splashed with drops of dandelion
dusty cobweb-cornered house
filled with roaming ghosts from the past
and happy moments - short lived -
have found their way to the attic
in hungry, hollow cardboard boxes

Attempts At Poetry

Mary's Fate (A Satire)

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
Attempts At Poetry


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!

Attempts At Poetry

Liberating Limerick

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
Attempts At Poetry


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
Attempts At Poetry

The Swallow (A simple little verse)

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
Attempts At Poetry