Dada A Nest Or

~*~

The penguin stands black and white.
Half a life cloaked in the night.
Creation birth’s little doubt.
A tomb within is a tomb without.

Words silence words shout.
Stature made high, real’s stout.
A planet only revolves.
Mother’s nature evolves.

Evil kills, the good resolve.
Time tells if poles dissolve.
Darkness begins when a day’s done.
The future’s bright or there is none.

Half our lives warmed by a sun.
Twice the heat when two is one.
Icy feet wish for flight.
Penguins stand, black and white

~*~

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Thank You Barbara for your inspiration!

 

 

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Burned

~*~

A human experiment toggled with a switch,

whether on or off, both have a glitch.

All begin similar, few end the same.

Starting lines differ when power’s the game.

*

Whine and complain for lack of a prize,

lives do vary through different eyes.

Have or have not is how scores are kept.

The future was bought, half our world slept.

*

Science now smolders, art soon to follow,

morals and values are promises hollow.

Winner take all, though little to gain,

when the heat of the sun boils our brain.

~*~

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Lessons

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The more costly the watch the freer the time

The louder the song the looser the rhyme

Turn on the light half the world’s dark

Smell the gas we see with a spark

Life in a bubble called atmosphere

Poking holes without a care

Drink deep from fragile stemmed glass

Candlelit dreams with time to pass

To guess and be wrong a zero gain bet

The higher the proof the more wrong we get

To prove the proof a wasted equation

Pens against bombs can never be won

Words in the air unheard over fuss

Numbers on paper not to discuss

Lessons of life shared by all; never stand, never fall

Never swim, never sink, never thirst, never drink

Always bright much unseen, blind to details in-between

Never laugh, never weep, never dive unless it’s deep

Never leap in the melting caps ice

A lesson we can never learn twice

The End

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Two to One

Too few natives, too many a chief

Too few police, too many a thief

Too much sun, too little rain

Too much tan, too little grain

 

Too few balls, too many sports

Too many yachts, too few ports

Too few hearths, too many homes

Too much warmth under too few domes

 

Too many shakes, too few hugs

Too little trust, too many bugs

Too little love, too much hate

Too little planning, too much fate

 

Too much running, too little soul

Too much waste, too small a hole

Too many pages, too few to conserve

Too many titles too few deserve

 

Too many thinkers, too little thought

Too many lies, too little truth sought

Too much war, too little gain

Too little peace, too much pain

 

Too many arms, too few fists

Too few battles won to list

Too little time, too much to lose

Two choices remain – which one do you choose?

 

 

The End                                          sck081314

Wock the Fock

Clocks no longer tick and tock
Keys unneeded for heads to lock
Brains rattle from what’s now rock
Age divides by the Dr’s Spock

Less is more in a frock
Big pants needed for a glock
Weaklings trampled, the rest to mock
Sheep gather and shepherds flock

Inky portions above the sock
Lightning strikes always shock
Ships of fools sit on a dock
Boats float down the block

Looters lament taking stock
Homeless homes best to knock
Future’s fresh in a fetid crock
Till time no more will tick or tock

~*~

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