My feet sink into the yellow gems sparkling in the floor.
I feel the same way I always have before.
Always drifting outward, being in this world no more.
Of course, you see, it is only the under tow.
But it doesn’t bother me, and I choose to flow.
Goodbye land and ocean, hello.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
"ABC" Never Say Can't
(SORRY IT JUST LET ME POST THIS)
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Any Body Can Doubt.
Everybody Fails.
Get Happy,
In Joyful Kindness; Like
Mother Nature Openly Praising,
Quietly Restoring Serenity To
Understanding, Very Weary Xenophobic
Young Zoologists
klmnopqrstuvwxyz
Any Body Can Doubt.
Everybody Fails.
Get Happy,
In Joyful Kindness; Like
Mother Nature Openly Praising,
Quietly Restoring Serenity To
Understanding, Very Weary Xenophobic
Young Zoologists
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Imitation Poem
Shamu
In and out, you're massive body weaves
Through the water, you give me hope and my heart cleaves
To you like glue, and I begin to believe.
People look at you with dire,
But I can't help it, I admire,
You inspire.
In and out, you're massive body weaves
Through the water, you give me hope and my heart cleaves
To you like glue, and I begin to believe.
People look at you with dire,
But I can't help it, I admire,
You inspire.
Visual Sensory Poem
"The Utility Room Of Shame!" by Robert Kallend
In the room by myself I sit,
Alone and friendless, as if in a bottomless pit.
The darkness around me taking much of the air,
As I contemplate life, my endless despair.
No sighs but of my breathing, no tears but of my shedding,
Oh, how for morning. That time. I'm dreading.
What I have done was then so easy,
Now in my head it spins so dizzy.
I look around and can feel my humility,
Seeping about me in this room of utility.
The churning of the washing machine, the fluorescent light that flickers,
That noise, that constant noise. At me the room, it snickers.
Grasping the sink as a final resort,
I swirl, I sway as I cling for support.
Clasping the tap in brutal force,
Out comes the water, that liquid blue source.
Drowning my head to ease the sorrow,
I hope to forgive myself as today becomes tomorrow.
Lying on the floor I begin to regress,
The pain, this feeling, known simply as stress.
I can no longer cope and this is the end,
My mind it's broken. Not on the mend.
All because I played with fire,
Now to which I can't transpire.
The fateful thing that was once a game,
Now eating me up, in the Utility Room of Shame!
In the room by myself I sit,
Alone and friendless, as if in a bottomless pit.
The darkness around me taking much of the air,
As I contemplate life, my endless despair.
No sighs but of my breathing, no tears but of my shedding,
Oh, how for morning. That time. I'm dreading.
What I have done was then so easy,
Now in my head it spins so dizzy.
I look around and can feel my humility,
Seeping about me in this room of utility.
The churning of the washing machine, the fluorescent light that flickers,
That noise, that constant noise. At me the room, it snickers.
Grasping the sink as a final resort,
I swirl, I sway as I cling for support.
Clasping the tap in brutal force,
Out comes the water, that liquid blue source.
Drowning my head to ease the sorrow,
I hope to forgive myself as today becomes tomorrow.
Lying on the floor I begin to regress,
The pain, this feeling, known simply as stress.
I can no longer cope and this is the end,
My mind it's broken. Not on the mend.
All because I played with fire,
Now to which I can't transpire.
The fateful thing that was once a game,
Now eating me up, in the Utility Room of Shame!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Starting New
She moved slowly,
like every part of her body was stuck
in jello, yet still
walking with an easy grace,
loping like a gazelle and
her eyes were shining like stars,
with the thought and possibility
of what was to come,
of what was right around the corner,
the new life that
was possible as she
stepped into the house and
began her dream.
like every part of her body was stuck
in jello, yet still
walking with an easy grace,
loping like a gazelle and
her eyes were shining like stars,
with the thought and possibility
of what was to come,
of what was right around the corner,
the new life that
was possible as she
stepped into the house and
began her dream.
Visual Sensory Poem
Meeting at Night by Robert Browning
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
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