Tag: warm ups
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Jabberings
Rhythm, rhyme, reason.Life is music, a dance, a song.Division, a single point, into three.Emphasis, weight, meaning.Words too heavy to be spoken as one.
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Immeasurable.
Who is it that shapes me? Makes me new. Changes the old dead man within, to one of life and youth. What do men see of me? What truth is known of my soul. I am a shadow of what I was meant to be. Greater Men than I have fallen, and greater men fall…
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Bad poetry on an empty stomach and brain.
Labor oh man, shovel coal into thy furnace. Feed the fires, fan the flame. Labor oh man, break boulders into dust. Chisel away, shape thy life. Labor oh man, but do not labor in vain. What costs righteousness? What price for goodness? Your life, and soul, for all eternity. Labor oh man, forget Him not. …
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Can I make good dialog?
He walked up to his friend. “ Hey, how’s it going?” “ Good.” was the noncommittal reply. There was an awkward silence where they both considered where to go from here. He decided it would be best to end thing as quickly as possible. “ Well cool, see you around.” “ Yeah see you.” He…
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Victory
I begin Up I shoot The sunfire rocks tells me of ease, “ Spend your strength here” Yet I save my strength, I twist and dance lightly griping with my hands, saving them. The first puzzle and past, I step with the lightness of a dancer. The grace of a bird flits in my hand…
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happy birthday.
Today is my birthday. Can there be a more depressing day in the year? Valentines day spent alone perhaps. I find the plaudits one receives on this day to be wholly undeserved. Birthdays should be changed, remodeled into a celebration of the women who bore us on those days. They are the ones who sweat…
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Little beholds.
behold I have little to say. Nothing new in this revelation. You, oh my theater of empty seats, have borne with my musing ineptitude and will continue to bear with it, weather you like it or not. The poem in all its glory. little is beheld. worse little beholds. be holding little, and carry it…
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ramblings while full of writers block.
Rich in terms of self proclaimed wit I carry myself up the hill of pride riding waves of caffeine to its summit. Behold, look upon the land and see that everything in the light is yours! But what of those places in the darkness? That valley of success, the halls of fame? No myself, You…
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Warm ups, nonsense in practice.
Flatlining leads nowhere. Mundanewordsscatteredinordersofoperationsdeathatitsfinestshowsthatorderbecomesnonsense Peaks. Valleys. Contrast. Start to think my heart, breath breathed with my mind. I think in the free air and become lighter than the sky. I move faster than light and slower than space. Yetordermustbeimposed, ohhowtothinkhowtobreathhowtoflywhengrounded. That is why it is called an art. Balance is needed. Depth of spirit, straightness…
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madness
probably the arrogance it would take to write poetry about a subject such as madness is itself a forum of the subject matter. I can only defend myself saying ” I was bored.” There now I cannot be accused of any insensitivity in a subject area where I have no experience only, theories thoughts and…
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