Fear of DeathDo you feel that feeling; nudging, prying?Fear of Death23 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In the corridors of your subconcious; waiting, lying.
The black truth hidden away behind your mind,
But all dark truths are brought to light in time.
It slithers, it crawls, at the edge of your sight.
The feeling of imprisonement, the oncoming night.
What lurks behind your masked eyes?
Your ignorant truths turn out to be lies.
Take apart the thoughts within your scattered brain,
But you're too afraid to face what's too insane.
For fear silences all rational thoughts,
And the mouth ignores what the brain was taught.
But the dark you keep at bay inside,
Will have it's way and day with pride.
You will not see the sunset coming,
You will not think to flee, there will be no running.
For death awaits us all at the brink,
And this is of something, we would rather not think.
We fill our lives with the intrusion of light,
To erase the thought of our inevitable night.
(S)LaughterYes, laughing is amazing,(S)Laughter10 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It makes our life so long,
It brightens up our being
And help us to be strong.
It gives us hope and brightens
The day against our will,
But did you know one trifle?
It anyone can kill.
Boys should be strong and brutal
And play all things on wheels,
Girls should be pretty, sweety,
Wear make-up and high heels.
Those who don't fit are out,
Considered as no-good,
It works on all the planet,
Always in people's mood.
I used to date a model -
Six feet and hourglass.
But then I felt love - genuine! -
For one who didn't pass.
She's short, red-haired and curly,
With freckles all around.
Her speech is not so perfect,
For me it sweetly sounds.
No one is realizing
That she is my true love.
"How could you change that beauty
For this?!" If not more rough.
When everybody sees her,
They laugh at her outside,
Not caring to glance inside -
You see, they have their pride.
It's strange: when being children
We're told that being smart
Is precious, but later
It's money which
Sonnet LXIXOp. 27, no. 9Sonnet LXIX11 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By seeing farther than the eye hath shown,
Creation's wonders slowly seem to spill
Their every secret, humbling what we've known
Or thought we did, but there's the very thrill
That keeps us spellbound thinking of the hand
Which wrought such wonders through the natural law.
And so we reach in hopes to understand
The grand design his mind's eye once foresaw.
To think that processes and intervention
Combined to form the substance of the earth--
And all is not yet new--what fascination
Does he give grace to be our lifelong mirth?
This spirit intrepid that man has known:
Imago dei in his creation shown.
OrganicShhh,Organic9 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Open your eyes, can’t you see?
You’re crossing I’s and dotting T’s
Reducing all to ritual deeds
Instead of simply letting be
It’s not by rote but all by flow
So much beyond one mind to know
Each season brings forth acts to glow
By which the future slowly grows
A Short ReminderThe moment I slipped,A Short Reminder17 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And fell through the cracks,
The harness had broken,
From the worries held back.
Remember the feeling,
Of hard work turned waste,
The progress we seek,
Comes not from made haste.
Remind yourself this,
What is it all for?
To get that release,
A few seconds, no more.
Let go if you wish,
But yourself you must ask,
How much joy will you see,
When it’s all in the past?
Geologists Get the Gneiss HeadstonesGeologist Get the Gneiss HeadstonesGeologists Get the Gneiss Headstones14 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In a secluded little grove
Nudged behind a water tower
Lies a graveyard,
With stones weak and of power.
Headstones, young and old,
Gray and black and red and yellow
Greeted my presence as I took
My evening stroll a solitary fellow.
As curiosity took hold,
And I studied chiseled names,
Both faint and new,
I found interest and high turning lame.
Until a trend I spotted
Upon studying a headstone
Made from old marble, which
Appeared erosion prone.
“Lucas Kettleberg” the stone said,
“Professor of Geology.”
And I continued to the next stone,
Claiming part to the profession genealogy.
Soon I realized that geologists buried
Had vibrant stones of red,
Pink, and gold, patterned with swirls
Artistic property made by the dead.
These rocks I examined,
Came from exotic quarries,
Hand picked by their owners
No doubt after extensive queries.
When one’s body grows old,
And aches plague their bones
A final trip ought be taken
To find the
Light and DarknessLight and Dark: The yin and yangLight and Darkness14 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
For generations, it has been sang.
A barrier for people, good and bad,
But one that makes the grey area sad.
A perfect balance of these two forces
Can take a man on many, many courses.
However, its hard to walk a fine line,
Especially with my sad little mind of mine.
A beautiful mix, shadow and bright,
A dark tint to a quite shining light.
I cannot seem to grasp that power,
And only take one to my mind, all sour.
A path less chosen, I'm suppose to take,
But I can't find which one, for my sake.
I want to find the right path, my path,
But it would be easier to do rocket math.
Light on one road, Darkness on the other,
I can't even get the help of my brother.
The light blinds me, the other shadows me.
One warms me, the other as cold as the sea.
I fear for me, for what if I choose unwise?
I do not want to come up to a nasty surprise.
Do I choose the brightness or the shadow?
At this moment in time, I really do not know.
I stand at the crossroads, the fork in