Comfortably Perplexed

Today’s poem’s not a poem at all.
Seems the flow has hit the wall.
The change in season’s what I suspect.
A change in me I don’t detect.
~
The blues behind, green’s on its way,
what happens next I can’t say.
Sometime a stick of wood is just that.
Or it can start a fire or built a habitat.
~
And with each box we’ve many strikes.
Some were used when we were tykes.
The rest we save for those rainy days,
when again they’ll guide our ways.
~
Jumbled metaphors run through my mind.
A start or end I can not find.
Perhaps now stopping is best.
It’s getting late, I need some rest.

~*~
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The Fix

It’s time once again for my daily catharsis.
I started late so it’ll be hit or miss.
I’ve nothing planned or grand inspiration,
none but to quench my daily fixation.
~
The day’s review is well underway.
Mind’s full of notes and the music does play.
My pencil does lure with infinite grace.
Time can be rewritten but we cannot erase.
~
Life though seemingly unpredictable,
conclusions often contradictable,
our tomorrow’s impossible to comprehend.
But tonight I can write a happy end.

~*~
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When All’s Left Is Write

To write from one’s heart,
the sweetest of art,
Valentine’s every day.
~
To write from ones soul,
a most serious goal,
but stillness has its sway.
~
To write from the head,
reality’s shed,
the world’s just our way.
~
In time and space and geography’s place;
people rush by, each a new face.
All’s directing a no act play.
~
Scenes overlap and curtains fall,
script’s blank await the call.
Silence screams its say.
~
A choice to write’s a right to choose.
When darkness consumes the bright side we lose,
left only with blue and gray.
~
If a life imagined we’re to create,
chapters mate and thoughts relate.
The end’s let to stray.

~*~
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Backdate

Been writing introspectively of late,
it’s been months and months without a date.
How much longer must I wait?
I need a break, that’ll be great.
~
Soon the winter will dissipate.
And a sunny forecast I anticipate.
But paths will always deviate,
the twists and turns we can all relate.
~
Questions arise without debate.
Answer’s befallen of luck or fate.
Time uncharted I blindly navigate.
My soul wanders without a mate.
~
Sonnets await the love to create.
Feelings and desires never abate.
A head in the clouds carries their weight.
But a heart enlightened is never too late.

~*~
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Space

Penned in my head words leak out.
Even tone’s seen with never a shout.
There’s no laughter, whispers or a scream.
The sun doesn’t shine nor does the moon beam.
~
In two dimensions my thoughts do lie.
Depth filtered through one blind eye.
Torn between paper and time,
my heart beats on rhythm and rhyme.
~
Love’s too easy when inspiration’s free.
Fear’s too real when the enemy’s me.
Fantasy’s seen with a panoramic view.
Consumption’s felt when all the colors blue.
~
Life’s many a hue with every shade of gray.
But black and white’s what we read every day.
Yesterday shapes where our todays begin.
And tomorrows start when life leaks in.

~*~
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Real Fiction

I sat to write a love poem,
but fiction got in the way.
My heart now is still,
alone another day.
~
Maybe eyes will meet,
there’s smiles shining bright.
Perhaps our hands will touch,
and lead us into the night.
~
Our spirits ever closer,
warming our moonlit stroll.
Our lips free to explore,
the pleasures of our soul.
~
Whispers echo softly,
our bodies intertwine.
I am hers completely,
she’s completely mine.
~
The morning sun will rise,
again eyes will meet.
Our hands again will touch,
a new day we will greet.
~
Our love will last a lifetime,
together we’ll always be.
I’ll write a million love poems,
but for now just fictionality.

~*~
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Persistent

In this time of “writer’s block”,
I stare blankly at paper and clock.
With jumbled prose I try to think,
should life be guided by pen and ink?
~
Does a rhyme decide a story’s path?
Can a re-verse save us from the wrath?
The day is young; there are things to do,
but the sky’s gray with a snowy hue.
~
The air is cold, I’ll assume,
my spirit’s locked within a room.
Doors will open if I choose.
When all’s lost there’s none to lose.
~
Persistence colors the choices we make.
Is persistence for persistence sake?
Do we persist simply to win?
If direction’s unclear should we begin?
~
Like life, love, thought and art,
questions unanswered are the start.
Life ticks forward with us or without.
Thoughts will be shared without a doubt.
~
Art will be made with all the thoughts had.
And love makes life happy but also sad.
Dilemma’s obscure visions true.
A vision obscures my dilemma new.
~
I’m seeking an end to what’s now fraught.
The past’s the lesson of what’s been taught.
And like life, love, thought and art,
ends shade poetic an open heart.

~*~
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