Sliver under ilness
and ugly prettiless
a penny
loathing

ruin of fingerprints
on discarded funn
a house with wax
witch wonderlens

we baked our yore
voristic need
a bulb flickering
the chimes
tingling

a cardboard world
sagging
with memories
curling

delving trickle madness
lit up alight
spoons
heat
boiling
sate

the dream dribble
on satin
paint

dont say you
hate

My pen is dancing
the mind is working
ideas are pouring
the heart is singing

Imagery flowing
the logic is crafting
visions in fantasy
gives birth to beauty

words flowing, blooming
emotion growing, exploding
the universe is calling
this poet is replying

the writer's block returning
progress facing its enemy
the frustration is building
but surrender is not for me

thus this humble poem is written
in one of life's quietest moments.....

Melody and Harmony

Her name is Melody
She sings with beautiful Harmony,
with nature and all things
created under the heavens.

You can see and hear them
in the wind
as a solemn hymn whispering
through the trees.
She plays with their leaves
making them dance to their musing.

You can hear them in a babbling brook
as they play their instruments
of rocks and water.
It’s a soothing and gentle sound.
Enough for a troubled soul.

A gorgeous silence
fell on your departure,
air that once shimmered
ire and malice,
is now clear and free
and fit to be breathed, in

days were lost,
the minutes crept
into numb hours,
feet turned circles
into squares
dumb of what to do
where to go

the mind flooded
with vast arrays
of pictured thoughts,
emotions scream
to boil, then nothing,
blank screens
all the way round

In silence I keep on brooding
why it's me all the time,
while you folks are sleeping
I witness all the crime?

By a lonely light on the street
a beggar counts his coins,
a hooker is poised to greet
a bloke who eyes her loins.

In neon of the red lit zone
all dark sides come to light,
when sins are bared to the bone
under the cloak of a luring night

I watch lights go to sleep
one by one in your homes,
from some I hear a shriek
from some, frenzied moans.

A Trial Blazed…

I walked this trail
long before he came,
hunting for food to
feed a family.
To him it’s just another
game, not just for feed,
also vanity.

I don’t say I deserve it
more, though he has
better tools than I.
Choosing the right prey
can even the score, all in
all success means
the targets die.

I leave home without
a truck, or sturdy boots,
I bet no one in your world
gives a fuck, or to be polite,
two hoots.

Each year at the midnight bells chime….. I feel a spinal spasm ….have I grown a bit older ….nearing the periphery of my eternal resting place…. or have I endeared ….a time gone by ….just in haste.

Each year I feel a bit of chill …as the snows pave my way …but then small mercies… have a way… they help you with champagne …on a New Years eve day.

Do not label terrorists
as Christians or Muslims!
They threaten the peace
with their endless schemes

When religion teaches love,
respect, tolerance and humility
all that they have to serve
is hatred, chaos and disharmony.

Do not let their presence weakens us,
turning us against each other
we are making it all so much worse
when we start blaming one another

Stop pointing fingers and listen!
The devils are laughing in delight
enjoying the loss of reasons
as our blind fists begin to strike

Ruler of the Sky

Majestic ruler of the sky
flying high above the trees.
Looking for a meal
to feed her hungry brood.
Too many mouths to feed.

Awake oh little creatures
to the terror of the sky.
She hunts for you
to feed her young.
All run for the trees.

Safety in them
for she needs the room
for the mighty span of her wings.

Her talons come forth
as she spots her prey…
too late for the trees.

By: Sharon Jones

What Death is this
that would leave me breathing?
Walk with me hand-in-hand
and sit on the end
of the Earth
dangling
our legs to tease the stars
as the faces
of my dead
friends
float by on holiday

A hole waits for me
and will continue to wait
despite my willingness
to eat hors d'ourves with worms and maggots
because Death won't pull the trigger
or kick out the chair.

What are you afraid of
Death?
That you will make me happy?