A true fact of life is:
It's not always black or white,
but a mix of this and that-right,
which is, I trust, a bliss.

So when the woes grow, swell
find a way to your young heart.
Let no pain incise that part,
let no troubles there dwell.

Clean the stains of hatred,
in love's sponge let all that go.
Wipe out the tears of sorrow,
time needs not be wasted.

Now, hurry up! come on dear
put your helpful hand in mine.
Ways with gold shall ever shine
when good intentions clear.

he was stupid
his Stupidity ...
a word
we ought not to use in poetry

well the end was well for him
he having become a celebrity
only coz of his stupidity.

Some day perhaps
it may well be me,
as master here says
I too know
no fuckin' poetry
only he does perhaps
and
so who will miss me?
he or none
that we'll have to see
Albeit ,
I am sure to be remembered by many
including him
and
of course you too,
and
perhaps only you two

sunlight filling up the store
falling in through window/door
falling on the angel there
adiorned in black
whom I adore

Pale skin and tiny hands
the flaxen hair
and tender smile

her eyes are the colour
of heaven
the soft radiant blue
a most amazing hue

Birds sing in the morning
More than some other times
To welcome a new day
They sing the glorious dawn
Joyful morning music
Some sat atop foliage
With pointed eyes gazing
At distant horizon
As if to see through time
What nebulous future may bring
Yet unperturbed by it

Littleton Revision 2
Ron BlueDemon77

Littleton, killed his son
why oh why, he put out his eye
the same day, all the skies went gray
the fever came, never was the same

sun's warmth gone, as his madness spawn
crops to silt, Redbeard lived his guilt
days of dark, nights of terror stark
tiny mound, jutting out of ground

Littleton, Redbeard thick with lice
maggots, rats, sharing habitats
every night, eyes shined with red light
at the door, child's voices implore

Oblivious to reality
Below average intellect
Aloof to folks like you and me
More radical than most expect
Angry to all who disagree

I told him to shut his gob
But he kept on, the stupid sod
I just wanted a quiet place to be
Why wouldn’t he stop pestering me?

No, I knew then, that he would have to go
The little shit ground into my soul
This world of his, he would leave behind
He then started on the mate of mine.

Now that was it, he’d left it too late.
He didn’t see me move my arm.
He was stupid, thought I couldn’t do harm
I felt the blade as I follow its arc.

Earth pulls us downward
to regain its lost children
birds long left the nest

Scatterers blown by the wind
find their way in this grand world

In the summer's warmth
freedom of the quiet mind
talks in whispers now

Lost children blown windwards hear
the noisy silence of choice

Like all falling leaves
we will find our way back to
earth from whence we came

There to lie in turmoil’s grace,
our goodness to the earth replace

..wandering around the city streets,
with filth covering your feet,
searching in trashcans for food to eat,
while the sun turns on it's heat..

..you ask for free porridge,
just to make way,
but the grown ups push you away,
and you end up discouraged..

..seeing the sad look in your face,
begging from people with white collared lace,
and as part of your life's phase
they discriminate your race..

it doesn’t seem You wish to answer my request
I wonder what has caused You to desire to taunt
the perky breasts I asked for are too gaunt to flaunt
though everybody says You always do your best

they say for You to grant exactly what we ask
we merely have to order it and we’ll receive
I don’t remember asking for them to my knees
just what was so damn difficult about the task?