I have
another
think
coming
it’s coming
it’s
coming
it’s
I’m
so
so so
so
so tired
I have
another
think
coming
it’s coming
it’s
coming
it’s
I’m
so
so so
so
so tired
Pennies for my thoughts? If only my words were worth the cost and overtime hours I dedicate: writing, tapping, scrapping, trashing, rearranging, replacing, hoping they grab your hearts the way they grab mine. Poetry may feed the soul, but it does not do much for the grocery bill. If you enjoy the poems here, consider…
Dive into ‘Under Metal Wings,’ a reflective journey from dawn’s embrace to twilight’s whisper. This poem and its inspiring image capture the silent hopes and whispered dreams of travelers, poised on the brink of discovery. Join them as they ascend into the yawning sky, seeking harmony within and adventures in distant lands.
Old book rests on wooden nightstandWorn cover binds tales of timeYellow pages pack away past proverbsSilent, still. Patiently waiting to speakWords offering warmth, guiding gentle growthWhen I open, friend diffuses light.
What if we loosened our grip on the glowing rectangles we carry everywhere? What if we walked more? Actually walked. Down sidewalks. Through neighborhoods. Past people we might eventually learn the names of.
Honk-honk, clatter-chatter, hiss-hiss,Morning‘s rush ensnares.Sharp glare, piercing, as the bus looms,Mischief in your eyes. Hissing threats through morning‘s gloom,Chattering loud lies.Intent clear, I swerve past you,Safety‘s leap: survive.
I’ve changed the order of my stanzas several times. I think I have it the way I like it now.