braddle ainedwhile Mother's sieve my sand grains sift,braddle ained12 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
i'm squandering Her precious gifts;
in quandering i still persist.
with my mind's ceaseless wanderings
i'm squandering in quandering.
Poem - Life of MemoriesLife of MemoriesPoem - Life of Memories22 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Poem for Day 241 – 20150830
To make a life of memories,
in technicolor with all the perks.
More exotic than the norm,
we'll make our mark upon the world.
View the colors so bright to eye,
splashed across the panorama.
Nothing's changed in our lives,
except for the love of it all.
Production values of the Travel Channel,
excitement of a Sci-Fy show,
we'll make an evening cinematic
in 3D with surround sound.
Living life to that pop song track,
the one I heard on the radio.
Now it is my life's mantra.
I hope I don't owe royalties!
Exciting people, cast of thousands,
extras in life's big drama.
They'll welcome us with open arms,
natives of the promised land.
Exotic locations, some far away,
most closer to our backyard.
open our eyes and see the views,
landscapes reborn once again
How is this done you may ask,
the answer is simple you will hear.
Seeing the world in celebration
will bring out the magic in the moment.
To make a life of memories,
brighter than we could c
Bound By Serenity[Late night gathering]Bound By Serenity20 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Pools are the softest mirror, fusing like bodies to the beat.
Bully a booming water bed as two.
Sweet beaming bunnies and big bear's money will join you.
Differentiated by what?
By what hair made the crew cut.
I run my own company and I know what to do. The arms of this branch I developed are arising and thriving. I'd rather die in the growth than in the shame of never trying. Perhaps that's why.
Mental, HigherPatterned tile tripped in the hallwayMental, Higher22 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Because the passage is overly winded.
It should not become indistinguishable from the floor
Because common looks are gimmicks.
Though they're the hydrators making similar spots seamless,
Colonist skies settled on the floor are historically meaningless.
They're as dreamless as a professor progressing the genius.
With this in mind, it mounted the walls in a journey to the roof.
I wonder how that will go.
easter ponderingsberuit scores this easter morning;easter ponderings12 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
the air is crisp, the sun is bright
(lending just a hint of mourning,
befitting resurrection rites).
perspectives and points of purview;
rolling tombstones and bodhi trees
gleen gravity from me and you...
truth can be seen, but what's it mean?
Poem - When I DanceWhen I DancePoem - When I Dance13 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Poem for Day 242 – 20150831
If I could make you feel
how I do when I dance
the world would be a better place,
the world would live to dance.
Internalize God's message
of music both profane and profound,
the destiny is the same,
the lifting of hearts above the veil.
To feel the music as a pulse,
to move the feet in response,
to piper's request for unity
under the banner of music's peace.
War and strife vanish for us,
distractions removed in part
by the rhythm of life's heartbeat
felt from one chest to another.
To connect with another,
under the cover of music's covers,
to be absolved in fulfilling
of skins' craving to be touched.
Nothing exists between the beats
the handhold of the partner,
timed to move together as one,
progressed only to start again.
If I could make you feel,
experience a hint of what I see,
when I embrace the muse of dance
the world would be better place.
If I could ask you to dance,
lead you to that ecstatic place,
God would grants us a boon,