Category Archives: Poetry

Familiar Objects

“Poetry lifts the veil

from the hidden beauty

of the world, and makes

familiar objects be as if

they were not familiar.”

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Elfje: …… Cinquain ….. Classic: each word only one syllable.
not here
can not see
cloaked in a fog
creepy crawly things
the earths many small wonders
slimy worms and bugs
it was a tale of woe he heard that night
liquor loosened the old mans tongue
but it could not cloud the memory
a clearer vision brought on by the hindsight

dreams that bloomed, dreams that died
the many loves won and those that were lost
the material things that came and went
the empty fortunes left along the wayside

details that included names and places
the hurts hidden by an euphemism
an altruistic consideration to the listeners ears
he responded to the looks on the audiences faces

and just when you thought it was over he had some more
another year, another place, another character
each one given its place of importance
for the want of a voice he could have been a troubadour

his story could be a subplot for a good B movie
reality stretched to almost unbelievable
especially when the swamp monster and the aliens appeared
and how he saved the maiden when he whipped out his Uzi

at long last the story teller and spectators were exhausted
for most too much excitement for one night
the imagination transported to new heights
while having one’s sense and sensibilities accosted

everyone knew the old man would be back tomorrow
new stories and new adventures to explore
just buy him a drink was all that he wanted
and a chance to share his pitiful lifes sorrow
ME and the Boss
http://ME and the Boss Recovery

http://ME and the Boss

Every Age

“Every age has
its own poetry;
in every age the
circumstances of history
choose a nation, a race,
a class to take up the torch
by creating situations that can
be expressed or transcended
only through poetry.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Elfje: Cinquain
run fast
a quick speed

Tanka: 5 x 7 x 5, 7 x 7
the theme crossed his mind
the poet wrote the poem
posted on his blog

nobody ever read it
a good thought wasted
it was instant love from the very start
that light fluttering feeling in the heart
she was to be the model for his great art
she waved to someone behind him, there was a sting
there was no mistaken, it was that ring
the ears buzzing, the dagger struck it’s mark
the room was engulfed in total dark
the knees began to shiver and bend
his life was over, he thought it the end
those feelings he protected by impunity
became a life filled with missed opportunity

his heart is marred with a thousand scars
as many wounds as there are stars
too young to be hurt this way
unknown emotions thrown into the fray
the parents divorced it was the end
there was no stability upon which he could depend
he believed that his heart would never mend
time moved on, his senses were a blur
he would never ever forget abut her
he mumbled incoherently to anyone who would listen
he talked about her and his great vision
he became the laughing stock of the community
became a life filled with missed opportunity

ME and the Boss
a similar rhyming scheme as found in Poe’s “A Dream Within A Dream”

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