Wanderer In The WorkerSometimes when I accompany the companyWanderer In The Worker12 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The accomplice is invisible.
CEOs and representatives seem bored in the spotlight
But at least their business keeps them too busy to be miserable.
Sometimes I wonder what my business is after hours,
When hardworking doors close for night's beauty
And don't allow the dark to be burned by overtime.
Staying or coming? Coming or going is not an obligated duty.
Poem - Heart ReleasedHeart ReleasedPoem - Heart Released12 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Poem for Day 182 – 20150701
Bridge between the worlds,
the intercessor to a heart constrained,
you've worked magic here,
opening the eyes of one who could not see.
Allow me to share
the person I used to be before I met you.
It is a sad tale
of the one who was once lost before I met you.
Life was askew,
fear was my companion when I went abroad.
were all I met when I walked in the world.
Just slipping away,
my life meant less than nothing to me.
Sorrow filled the space
where soul connections were meant to be.
their cultural norms were foreign to me.
I was distrusting,
fearful of anything new to cloistered me.
distilled over the many generations,
drip dropped in
to taint that place where good should be.
the gulf between was filled with ignorance.
no commonalities bound you to me.
me and mine separate from you and yours.
I’ve broken from them,
The Young's FlawThere's this annoying little fly around.The Young's Flaw1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Don't worry about the fly, it doesn't matter.
It can get you sick.
So survival is important.
Why's survival so important if nothing really matters?
Maybe so somebody more evolved could solve the problem.
So I'm the caveman with a fly swatter,
Treating the speeder with cruel justice like a corrupt copper
Because instant gratification's all that matters to today's grasshoppers.
Didn't they preach to be patient?
Or something like that.
What I do know is that your logic's plentiful in lack
Because in time, the fly wouldn't have bothered the relation
The aged have with peace.
Tolerance is built of those walls.
So you're clearly too young to think you stand so tall.
Spend your energy with someone who can teach.
Call For HomeYou can pick up on it, can't you? This weakness. Even from a distance, with no landline to use I want to call.Call For Home1 day ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Slow music in a fast crowd.
If people of the earth turn
The sun burns it itself.
I needed you now.
It's like unfaithful wind; nothing meant to stay.
A drifter still wanders as they're spirited away.
Wondering if the wind can blow too hard.
I need you now.
We could have been each other's trainers,
Our song and dance making ourselves dangerous.
Lone wolf howling something even deadlier.
I need you more.
Sabotaged fireworks blow up on each other.
Mayhem can stop to look up at something more abstract
Than the idea of glue being a separator.
I still need you.
A day in the desert is like walking on fire. You don't want to do it. But I know for a fact there's a call box there and it'll work when nothing else will.
What to do?
Wish me luck, I guess.
Digging Too FarWhen it holds its wings, it's like an airplane.Digging Too Far2 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Even more beautiful when it lands.
Angel of one scooping up passenger two
For a limitless flight started by taking the offered hand.
Airport the beach, ocean the runway,
Wings almost securing me to becoming a runaway.
The offered hand just needs to be held to take off.
Breathless in the cabin, out of body, I saw myself run away.
Returning to self in the lone forest near the shore
As the offered hand feels around lonelier sand.
I'm sorry I hear myself even apologizing.
Makes me feel less of a man.
But the offered hand could just be taken, it's like it pecked at glass
And made a crack I'm afraid of.
At least if it breaks, worthless shards will be hidden in the grass
And hopefully buried deep in dirt for nature to eat away. Fade.
You know, I looked it up right now. Glass doesn't decompose. So imagine if some archaeologist or whatever years down the line decided to dig around for a bit and discovered broken glass everywhere. It'd be kinda fun
SuccessfulNuclear waste is better than garbage.Successful3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Imagine the toxic weapon you could harness
When sludge is a mountain tossed away and piled up.
Only, poison isn't the goal.
There's a different kind of food in the bowl
And the way you're cooking now's got the restaurant riled up.
Everybody has their different tastes
But you found a way to unite the world with plates.
Now if that just happened to not be the case, well..
I know it wouldn't be kitchen stoves fired up
But food left untouched can reach its expiration,
Flowers to crisps as water takes a vacation.
Nothing thrives with money put in patience,
And wasn't this the exact thing you were tired of?
The Final Dance The rhythm so alluringThe Final Dance 3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It drags me to its beat
Like silent arms that hold me
That move my tapping feet
I feel the warming spirit
Of a man who isn't there
But in my deepest heart of hearts
I know he's still here
The music starts growing louder
As we swing and sway
So close I feel I could touch him
Just like back in the day
The dead and the living
Together again as one
If only for this escaping moment
A single dance better than none
MasksWe want to be the hero, strong and brave,Masks3 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With simple words or actions, keeping pace,
While fighting from the cradle to the grave,
We hide behind a faulty plastic face.
Sometimes instead we turn to evil ways,
Ignoring light and hope, we fade to black,
Once innocent pranks lead to darker days,
Another face that ceases to look back.
They live without respite, recourse, remorse,
A hardy race of masks, of varying weight,
We lose ourselves to them, a draining force,
The mad bearers of a terrible fate.
We all have one, it’s real, and very true,
A cursed mask that once worn, instead wears you.
Legends of The LovedWhy are the greatest never meant to age?Legends of The Loved5 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Slowly stripped to bones but the structure lives another day.
So the longest standing makes the museum
Of memories standing high like the coliseum
In my mind.
Historic because we want them to be remembered
Or because they're here and gone like the women of September?
Zone IIIf I must bury what's of value then best of luck.Zone II6 days ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm the pirate to fear,
Setting sail for other gold
That I know is near
If I just think of a way there.
I never fail to draw a map if needed.
I don't know.
Here for now.
Winds make a vow
To carry hollow wood past the flaming stove.
Writing a SestinaI hate writing this poem.Writing a Sestina1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I like to write, don’t get me wrong,
But I do not like writing this sestina.
It’s hard to manage, you know?
To come up with a poem that is whole,
How am I to pull this out of thin air?
This thing makes me want to swear.
What idiot invented this kind of poem?
So picky about what’s right and wrong,
How do you make it not full of holes?
No matter what I do they say “No. No,
That’s not a correct Sestina.”
6 lines in 6 paragraphs: this is a sestina.
6 words in a pattern; and you have to make them pair,
But how to do this I just don’t know.
Taking out the rules makes a much more enjoyable poem,
Just writing not worrying about making holes
And since it’s just for fun it’s never wrong.
I’m sure there is to a way that’s not wrong.
There must be a way to do a good sestina.
A way to see it as a complete whole,
But against the professionals how can mine compare?
Against these published authors my little poe
Roots of Growing YouthGetting involved in their mile,Roots of Growing Youth1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Enthralled in their style.
Sweet dissolves for a while,
Unresolved for a while.
They're appalled by the new devious smile
Which made the previous worthwhile.
They wonder what soured sweet salt.
You spilled it on the table so you know who we'd fault.
But when you tossed this all over that cold shoulder,
Grains become boulders.
Boulders become towers
Built high in the skies.
Want to know a funny fact they deny?
Everything they take away just gives it power.
Forever: Blessing or CurseTo live another day,Forever: Blessing or Curse1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Is it a blessing or a curse?
To live amongst the living,
Or watch the loved die away?
Are you to live to gain knowledge?
Or are you to slowly grow mad?
Are you to spread the word to people?
Or are you to be seen as a fool?
To wish to live forever,
May it be so bitter sweet.
Are you to live another day?
Or be cursed by a thousand lifetimes...
Anthems of Future AgeBleeding on the strings of the cello.Anthems of Future Age1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I can hear the player's cry
Because it's heavy to hold high.
Forced to play when begging muscles bellow.
Songs to keep up when you're below
Is even livelier with soul,
Animated by the storyline told
Of where the player goes.
I've seen a skeptic put on a seatbelt for this ride
And watched him emerge a faithful person.
So hear now and venture into her descent.
Crystal clear blue that deserves a swim under ground.
Sounds in the water rise and never relent.
One it catches a beat, tsunamis can pound.
Of course you may find yourself caught up in her current,
But for the show I think it's worth staying outside.
Oaken KingSing we of a mystery now as long ago,Oaken King1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
old as shining starlight, old as rivers flow.
The Holly King shall rise, the waning year to bring,
therefore bid we farewell to the Oaken King.
Now in bright midsummer, the world's all in a dance,
comes the Holly King in his darksome trance.
Comes he to slay but honor he does bring
to his fallen brother, the golden Oaken King.
In the dark midwinter, the year's wheel turned around,
then shall be the Holly's blood on the frozen ground.
Ever it comes to bring the year's waxing
then shall be victorious the golden Oaken King.
Poem - DrivenDrivenPoem - Driven1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Poem for Day 173 – 20150622
Once I wanted what I could hold,
possessions of glittery function,
to spend my time, to spin the wheels,
once I was happy with these things.
Now I want to spin gossamer threads,
creative expressions of my passions,
philosophical nudgings from the left,
and naughtiness of dance and delight.
Good, bad, and ugly are the source
of words aligned with my creations.
Pointed words to shock and to awe,
with photographs to show the way.
Boredom begone from this lyricist,
I'll spin another song to pass the time.
Stanzas reflecting a life both held
and one that I'd really like to have.
Audience is of their own choosing,
reviewers of both pain and strife,
my struggle with the world comes free
to those who take their time to read.
Others are drawn to the ripe romance,
dance expressed in the objective,
innuendo hiding in the subjective,
with a wink and nudge say no more.
You may ask why I'm driven so,
to produce poems and songs for you.
I'll tell the truth be
Fabled MissWhen handshakes turn to earthquakes,Fabled Miss1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Shaking memories to nightmares,
There comes a hope to awake
Even though open eyes are already there.
I wanted to live.
And I got paralyzed.
I wanted to understand
Stallions can run but don't fly.
Imagine what it does with a little courage
When the branders come to label it.
Free spirits aren't servants,
So the slave that never was became the fabled miss.
BeingMy wisdom, is my experienceBeing1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My smile, hides my sorrow
My passion, comes from pain
My strength, comes from fighting
My patience, comes from learning
My confidence, hides my insecurities
My innocence, is not innocence.
Winning Winds (Weather)They're sitting in dawn and dusk's rain and snow.Winning Winds (Weather)1 week ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It can be difficult to see the earth below
Standing now, turning around to say no.
No hot can ever come down to the colds under
Because seeing the bottom pushes me over.
At least I can't get burnt by cruel summer.
The winning wind's all I feel.
Is the breeze a steal
If it takes away from natural disaster?
Crushes and BottlesI was the food you almost avoided at the shopCrushes and Bottles2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Because you only bought whatever was half off.
Never the full price
Because you don't dine.
I was once the one you tried and saw spitting out.
Now the taste has you missing out.
Don't get me wrong, I don't care whether or not you like drinks
But it's disrespectful to turn down the toast and clinks.
I saw you dump it, don't you deny.
If you weren't interested in them then why did you arrive?
One sip doesn't make you an alcoholic on a drunken ride.
Still, if you'll be the sober one then you'll know who won't be.
Even the harsher shots of flames don't burn like you do.
Fire in finished flames is what it will take for me
To finally forget about the market reminding me of two.
The Girl in the LocketShe lives in someone's locket,The Girl in the Locket2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
alone and tucked away.
She wishes they would stop it,
and she wishes she could stay,
Inside of someone's locket,
so pain would not quite hurt.
She wouldn't have to watch it,
as people all left her.
But someone pride it open,
the locket could not hide,
The girl that lived there broken,
the treasure lost inside.
He cut his finger on the frame,
of her jagged home,
But held His hand out freely,
and asked her, "come?"
But fearfully she stepped back,
someone's locket was her home.
How could she leave the darkness,
she'd learned to call her own?
But though she could not see it,
that darkness was a thief.
It ate up all the light and love,
and left her fear and grief.
But He would not give up on her,
He pulled her from her tomb.
The locket sucked Him in instead,
and covered Him in it's gloom.
She couldn't open someone's locket,
no matter how hard she tried.
He took her place in side her cage,
and for her love He died.
She lived in light for three long days,
Happy I'm ThereLet me tell you a little storyHappy I'm There2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You don't need to follow.
Met fame today and it felt shocking.
I had to jump at the chance to stay.
Fame is like a river.
Running and usually cold.
But the swim across is so inviting
That I dove in to travel.
Rivers are also part of the clouds
Angels can see looking over.
The heaven in its reflection is so enticing
That even fallen angels lept for it.
Clouds are also world famous
For all the people living in them.
Please, be happy that the one of a kind
Will bounce up its numbers finding home.
Cheh Khubehچه خوبه که سراپا گوشه گر به صدای برّه کرهCheh Khubeh2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
چه خوبه غول صد دستی گر دستش توی کف پوشه
چه خوبه صد چشم آرگوس گر رنگین کمان نبینه
چه خوبه دارای بینی فیل گر ایستاده و گل بو نکنه
Reinvention in The ResurrectionThey'll notice if the avatar changes clothesReinvention in The Resurrection2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But not if you do.
They'll understand online words losing hope
But in person not hear you.
You know, screens do crack.
And once that power spills it's not going back.
I just wonder if a tech did that.
Sometimes it's not about the battery they pack
Because you're overcharged.
Hardware of the heart can't be replaced
Because short-circuited wires are hard-wired and too large
To ever want to forsake.
Asking for help is not a weakness.
Can you run if we rebuild you together?
If we blow away the ashes of a fire that left you speechless,
Maybe a new computer will treat you better.