Tag Archives: spirit

Brightly Colored Ribbons

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“Poetry isn’t like any writing

I’ve ever heard before.

I don’t understand all of it,

just bits of images, sentences

that appear half-finished,

all fluttering together

like brightly colored ribbons

in the wind.”

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~ Lauren Oliver, Delirium

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Elfje:     (Cinquain)

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poetry

cannot read

between the lines

nor can it write

prose

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Haiku:

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humid air stiffles

blue skies nowhere to be seen

a summer deluge

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Poem:

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a young man lost in space
taking suggestions from everyone
couldn’t find his way to first base
didn’t even know how to have fun

made decisions knowing it would make others happy
took the easy road, jumping at the first offer
pretended a lot, always avoiding the flashy
he hid in the shadows, invariably the stalker

his life mumbled on, he didn’t grow up
a heart of stone, he was forever alone
perpetually content to be the runner-up
never the worker, just a wannabe drone

envious of the classmates whose lives blossomed
oblivious to the time which quickly flew by
never had an appreciation for the word awesome
sad beyond sad but could never cry

he died on a snowy winter morning
no family or friends to mourn him
not a soul who cared, no fan club adoring
no eulogy to be read nor a choir to sing a hymn

out of guilt this poem was written, because
every soul needs to be remembered, somehow

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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The Language Of The Soul

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“Poetry is the language of the soul;

Poetic Prose, the language of my heart.

Each line must flow as in a song,

and strike a chord that rings forever.

To me, words are music!”

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― Lori R. Lopez

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Elfje:           (Cinquain)

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swearing

in vain

not an oath

very poor language skills

vulgarities

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Haiku:

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crickets loud chirping

pollen thick enough to see

soon summer will bloom

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Poem:

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he skipped the rock across the pond
reflecting how his life did the same
with each touch ripples were spawned
like scions to carry on the family name

the undulations distorted his reflection
his memory was likewise confused
wandering, he sought some direction
his soul was very tired and abused

he was not growing old gracefully
he regretted the youth he had wasted
the ego was always acting ostentatiously
his habit was to always be inebriated

could there be another way of living
would another fox hole prayer work
should the world be forgiving
was this the prelude to going berserk

in real life there are no coincidences
a man with a plan crossed his path
just another of God’s mysterious incidents
a solution to calming his insane wrath

there was a book to give him guidance
a fellowship to welcome him home
he learned to live within the silence
how to survive the complex syndrome

holding on to his new found discovery
enjoying the life of a blessed recovery

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.com

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