Poetry

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9

Olympus

not sure If it was a dream or a memory of fear and beauty of a summer from my past

Olympus

I dreamt about the crumbling hills,

of lavender, drenched, scented

Highlights of silver dusty light,

grey moons, sad and tormented

I dreamt of rocks rent asunder

racing to sure destruction

the sound of Cicadas

Gods who gave instruction

I dreamt of mortals...

18

My Love

The poem is was written for a guy who dedicated his feeling to a girl he loved. He asked me to write it for her since he was not very good at writing poetry.

My Love 

My love is true,

And it’s all for you.

My heart sees a love,

That was sent from above.

When I look into your eyes,

That makes me never want to say goodbye.

From the start

You had my heart.

When...

78

Nostril damn mess

i still vividly recall this fear of extricating a rotten egg left to percolate with greater offensive stench. most likely this lingering recollection continued to shoulder air time, thus the force of will to...

The putrid, malodorous and fowl nauseating smell 

   can still be conjured nearly fifty years later wracked

I never forget ineradicable tangy, sulfurous 

   acrid odor rankled olfaction tract

entire sinus cavity, yet amazingly enough isolate 

   this offal...

48

Battle Axe And Her Republican Trumpeting Waze

long festering within my noggin grew a germinal whim to broadcast (albeit electronically) the constant harrangues from the surviving zison clan of the cave bairs and lamb basted regularly soon after we set foot...

Upon bitterly cold dawning hours of one January 2000 day the Harns family desperately sought a place to live – “hay there” Nelson Swartley (an independent realtor) politely responded bringing unwelcome news viz our...

92

ansley piper dunning

unbeknownst to this papa, the nieces per thy sister two plus years younger than me (her only brother) exude such civility, frivolity, and individuality. 

this stunning lithe oldest teenage niece, daughter of my younger sister, epitomizes a tall drink of water (similar to the mother at same age)

What with her willowy young woman body brimming with budding...

22

The Joy of Bing cross bee Skits zoid stings

my aging gnarly fingers typed of their own accord, a titanic totally tubularly trumpeting tumult describing the subjection at the receiving end of the bully pulpit. no shortage of material to draw vis a...

b4 diving in2 thee quiz i moost write to thee miz  how gorgeous yar profile iz 2me - a generic guy - hiz heart beats fast - as if he performs per show...

49

Dusk or Dawn

I suffer from dysthymia and periods of major depression with suicidal thoughts. It has been close to five years since I noticed any symptoms. I do not wish to romanticize suicide by any means....

When shall I commit the act? The one they call damnable The one that will rot my soul, So They say.

But the act is my liberator From this agony, from your condemnation More...

23

Wednesday morning

This poem basically sums up a working day in my current life. It is a simple poem but I like a simple life to be honest so it makes sense.

Wednesday morning  Time to get up, time to get ready. Have wash, clean teeth. Then must walk Freddie. No bike ride today.  A lift I'll be given. Though must exercise slightly I don't...

82

Strength of a Survivor

A straightforward poem that gives energy to those who might think anything good in life comes easy. Some people just have to keep fighting in a just manner for what they really want. These...

Strength of a Survivor

Heaven’s path is paved with good intentions.

Survival is the source of many inventions.

Strong nerves fire on all six cylinders.

Hands are worthless without the fingers.

Everything works together for good.

This saying is often...

60