Tag Archives: passion

The Rhythmical Creation Of Beauty

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“I would define,

in brief,

the poetry of words

as the rhythmical

creation of Beauty.”

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~ Edgar Allan Poe

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Elfje:   (Cinquain)

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soothing

gentle sounds

pleasing gossamer dreams

still water runs deep

brooks

 

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Haiku:

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thunder lightening rain

God’s wonderful theater

life giving waters

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Poem:

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I can see the setting with my minds eye

with my words I want you to see it too

use your imagination, let it fly

let us all take a trip to the emotional zoo

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let us start with the family, we know them best

Dad doesn’t count, his emotions are hidden

question his feelings he would flunk this test

real men don’t cry; a tear, heaven forbidden

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Mom’s usually have all of the passion

child bearing, child rearing stretches the sensibilities

following Dr. Spock or whoever is the current fashion

in the end, Mothers intuition is the God given ability

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Siblings, a curse or a blessing

some are like Mom, some are like Dad

memories fueled by feelings worth expressing

the best times, the worst times we have ever had

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neighbors and friends can fill the zoo

from cuddly koalas to to the always hungry lion

over the cuckoo’s nest some of them flew

personally they all made their own bed to lie in

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paint the picture, yourself, family and others

what colors do their personalities represent

the vibrant peacock, the camouflaged laughing hyenas

use your mental imagery how many matches can you invent

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see the picture

who is the sicker

can’t go to the zoo

without looking for you

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ME and the Boss

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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Bloodied

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“Poetry is

an abstraction

bloodied.”

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~ Wallace Stevens

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More from Reading, PA’s own.

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Elfje: (also known as a Cinquain)

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right

no left

a purposeful distraction

only the artist knows

abstraction

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Haiku:

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a high temperature

seasons begin to collide

freezing tomorrow

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Poem:

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not a corpuscle to be seen

her face turned ashen and then she swooned

detectives would not scour the scene

for them it was just another full mooned

she was only the lovers go between

everyone told her the tryst was doomed

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parents disapproved the high school sweet hearts

the self centered stud seeking his own desires

she was the enabler suffering by fits and starts

he used her by pulling her puppet wires

the delusions of love they fashioned into arts

their passions never consumed by the same fires

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his conquests were often and many

she always stood by turning a blind eye

she knew the times and the names were plenty

her dreams were always pie in the sky

her best friend would not submit, would she help any

she would do anything for him, she let out a sigh

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that fateful night as on the silver screen

she walked to that dark place were all assumed

she was only the lovers go between

everyone told her the tryst was doomed.

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ME and the Boss

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