I haven’t felt myself today,
though that’s been the way.
Just do and do for dues to pay,
but always more and less to say.
And on the rocks or sand we land,
to lie’s retreat or rise and stand.
And all’s unseen just looking grand,
but there’s always more and, and and…
And tides change with the moons’ resolve.
And life’s propelled as we revolve.
Time’s the riddle not to solve,
but love’s the answer to evolve.
And tomorrows too never stay.
And memories will forever play.
And feelings are, anyway.
But nothing is, as yesterday.
Steam Punks ~
The Permanent press
made light of our irony,
till bored and depressed.
Morons Lessons ~
Life’s about choices,
though some bad, all’s important.
Less is never more.
All that’s gold not pure,
not all that stinks is rotten,
all else forgotten.
Life fades to fallen hues.
Winter’s white with deepest blues.
Spring’s upon a pastel moon.
Summers shine none too soon.
Beneath the surface the hidden lies.
Lifetimes dug with nightly spies.
They’re timely spirits never seen.
Betwixt the shadows they have been.
They step in time to others cries.
Unheard are they, ahead they rise.
Parallel the paths diverged.
Wrongly spiked the forces surged.
Time is distance in disguise.
Depth perceived in mind’s wise.
Forever’s there can never be.
The past is all we get to see.
Tomorrow’s come and that’s the prize.
The present meant to capitalize.
Waves of emotion ebb and swell.
Tides of change rose and fell.
Plans charted as the crow flies.
Destinations await all surprise.
Second chances always free.
And visitors all are we.
Then there’s those which defies,
“to each their own” we’ll rationalize.
Can halves again make a whole?
The ups and downs take a toll.
With twists and turns we realize.
Life unlived without goodbyes.
When virtue’s taken does it come back?
When innocence gone what else do we lack?
When the time comes is it too late?
When the day’s done was it fate?
When dreams awaken was it sound?
When trust is lost what then is found?
When does a broken heart mend?
When is a lover not a friend?
When all was had what’s left to yearn?
When the damage done what did we learn?
When the pains felt haunt can life return?
And when it does; does it burn?
Fifty percent of
marriages end in divorce,
the remainder’s death.
The older I get,
the younger I feel I feel,
till felt what’s real.
follow dangerous thinking.
Think before thinking.
When I examine
myself with a microscope
I just get smaller.