It's such a curiosity
when I write a poem, each day;

I'm not prone towards ambiguosity
but, it's still missed, what I've tried to say!

My verses aren't extraordinary
to ignite thoughts' spark's the goal,

I may be a candidate for dictionary lessons
if my train of thought's not, "whole"!

I could try another language
but, in the time it takes to learn,

with their nounages, and verbages,
I'd invent a "me" that foreigners, could spurn!

Rudeness personified
my aching vertibrae,

wearily I rise to my feet
and the room begins to sway;

grinding palpatations
awakes my body to the light,

the fresh sterility of the day
has all but erased the dark of night.

Reality can wearily
drape black crepe over me,

because my expectations
were too great to ever be;

sideways indignation
I alone, can hope to feel,

from your casual reaction
I see my solitude is real.

The color has all but drained
from the eyes inside my head,

I know the time will soon be here
when long sylvan walks will end
the only way I'll see a deer
will be on a road around the bend

For now I'll grin through my knee pain
and limp around, no hint of grace
so as to increase memories' gain
though slow may be my halting pace

For I must hoard remembered sights
while there's still the chance to see
the forest under varied lights
it's understated majesty

`

the 'Valley of Vision' - the plains of derision
has caught my eye - ripping out my bossom
lay captive my heart - tethering claws
captured my wandering mind - releasing nether the vagabond

your cup sends me reeling - tumbling venom-drenched
a haughty tower trembling - quivering in the night cold
never again to be rebuilt - ever awash on the shore

two men once hung from a tree - condemnation rife
the one cursed his life upon himself - excluded realities
the other condemned eternally - for him accursed vindication

Wondering within this dream
randomly with no direction
the larger part of life wasted
with work
worry
waiting
wondering
when does it get better ?
if ever
even the brightest spots
love and family
have their problems

OK, Very Nice In view of the discouraging comments
should this poem be removed
your comments please.
Particular the best critiques
A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY FOR YOU

Very Nice
The three poems
You will read today
Are the ones
I wrote two years ago
When none read me
Over here
So it makes a difference
In as I always say
What’s in a name?

My dog doesn’t smell very sweet
His breath reeks of cabbage and meat
I’ve had quite enough
Cos he’s rolled in some stuff
And it’s matted all over his feet.

His fur is ridden with ticks
He froths at the mouth when he licks
Ah! What the heck
He’s a physical wreck
And he aint very good with the chicks.

He slobbers all over my clothes
And pong's from his head to his toes
He’s making me barf
So I’ll give him a bath
Washing him down with a hose.

No dog suffered in the making of this poem.

`

You had never a grown-up been
but all the world entirely seen
the great capacity of your mind
in a few poems you left behind

without a word, no clue foreseen
half-year before you turned eighteen
surrendered to the daily grind
no joy sun's rise or set did find

none of us that here remain
your secret heart we'd never gain
throughout the years that we have tried
countless tears we cannot hide

Someone has left you there all alone
doesn’t even bother to pick up the phone.
No more cosy evenings in any more
and no one to welcome you at your door.
But you can find a way to get through
so don’t let love’s candle burn out on you.

It’s hard to face the future with a broken heart
but you’ll move on when you’re ready to start.
Life will slowly get better, as time goes by
and you can get through this, you just have to try
You can find love again, you know that it’s true
so don’t let love’s candle burn out on you.

Breathe and liquefy,
lay aside your pain.
Beauty emerges.

lethargy, inertia, apathy
Blood red vision.
Inhale.

The world vibrates.
Thoughts throb and agitate.
Creativity is my addiction.

inhale and the old world goes away.