short poem- to the stars

The shine, the sparkle
the diamonds in the sky
A billion shiny dots
Too far away to fly

The dirt, the rock
the little blue dot
A prison
without thought

So close
yet so far away
All the places
in the sky to play

What could be
more boring
Then traveling
through space

Sitting here
Doing nothing
day after day

worth fighting for

One wish, a bet before this
A moment of calmness
A feeling of more than less
The clarity that cleanses
like a clean lens
The fortitude to not give in

How many does it take
How long until one breaks
The weight of the world
Forgives no mistakes

Chance is a moment
That has already passed
Luck is love
and it takes more then you have

Would you,
could you,
should you,
If you dare

Give it your all
find your square
That pace far from nowhere
When surrounded by chaos
Home is where the hart is

?

two times before one, 
one time before 
the thought has come. 
One out of a thousand 
has come and gone. 
Before the you and I, 
the after affect must hide,
then it shows itself 
one at a time
 not of, 
but is not if, 
but when, 
where would you 
choose it. 
That second before 
the moment has passed. 
through sometimes 
does not find, 
the answer that lies, 
its only by going around 
in time.
that one sees
that pattern arise.

Nothing left to say

I bet not that I sat and did nothing
But nothing is what there was
The space, a void ,a place without noise
Nothing is what becomes

From the something you said
 you pushed on past
A kiss, a taste, a little embrace
would you care to dance again

To the time of lies
 Until walking on by
as we drifted
from one place to another

Do you miss any of it
or has it always been like this
You and I only a moment in time
Now to go on with the rest of our lives?

writting

Put not the pen to paper but the mind through the pen.
Find a friend in the silence where no one else can
break the dam behind the eyes
no more distractions to disguise
Let the words describe
what it is people cannot find

At last Alone with my thoughts

Far below the space above
The clouds that roll and the wind of dust.
Castles of stone and Houses of mud
Building of glass that tower above

Concrete jungles and deserts of grass
People come and people pass
Stranger then fiction is finding one's self
So wrapped up in the chaos life is about

Do you take two steps forward or one step back
To give it your all or all that you have
To turn the other cheek and just walk on past
Until the moment everything stops at last

When the silence is heard
The shadows become real
when no ones around
But you with yourself

To stare through the darkness
Into the light that can be found
The illusion now drips
but doesn't make a sound

Left to your own devices
does the wheels spin round
Or does it make a cracking sound

In the morning do you forget all you have found
Do you tell the people around
Have you ever found yourself past the point of no return
To walk on the edge and wander around

Are you the only one
Whoever thinks they've thought of stuff
Looks on past the shiny things
To wonder what it is people are not telling?

Story poem of elements

The water sits calm not a wave or a sound
No motion in it and no Change to be found
Simple ways for simple days
Sitting around in a simple haze

Until a small ripple begins to spread
Then one after another the drips begin
The winds of change have come again
The leaves frantically begin to sing

Fish move from the bottom to fed
The lightning light an old dry tree
Like an oxymoron, the fire spreads
Sweeping through the forest burning the dead

Until reaching the river's edge
The water and fires battle has come to an end
The rain washes the ashes away
The wind is the winner of the battle today

Mercury cougar

If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a monkey go pee?

Someone who believed he was so smart once asked me, If a tree falls in the woods and no one was there to hear or see did the tree fall. While thanks to computers there are now satellites taking pictures of the entire world so no one needs to be there to see and from the time its picture was taken and archived to thousand years from now and onwards someone can go back and see. Rendering that question obsolete, along with the old way people used to think!

Short poem- Good bye

The bud starts at the first of spring as it unravels to show a leaf. Staring at the flower so pretty attracting the birds and bees. To create a new life before the flower begins dying. But the leaf holds on long after its friend is gone. See's the sun and moon while weathering through the rain as others fall falls. but then the cold hand creeps through the breeze. What once was green now shows weathering. It chooses its colour from red, yellow, orange, and pink. It's expression of thought and feeling. But as fast as it found its way in life the wrinkles set in and it falls in the night. There on the ground, it rests with its friends under the white blanket of deaths cooling hands. As the day the snow melts and flows away to find the river of its friends again. A new life grows a new leaf turns green, the old gives way for a new beginning.

short poem- board?

The week stretches long as lucky sevens have come and gone. More time to spend than money on pretty things. Patience is a key but more like a slut to me. The air we breath is free and easy as long as you do not think of breathing. We all think of leaving to find a distracting to keep me from me. When left to my own devises suicide is painless. Watching reruns of mash on T.V. I've waited all week and now on this couch, I cannot leave. The world is cruel but even more, it is big. Walk all day in one direction passing building after building. But what is there for me? how can I find someplace to be? where do I fit in in this society? Everyone is friendly as long as I spend my money. But now my wallet is empty and those friendly faces that once greeted me, now are asking if I am going to buy anything.

Shot Poem- How much?

How fortuitous of thee to find me, sitting, waiting, staring, wondering what will be.
The complications of the universe seem so simple compared to the understanding of humans.
We push and pull forget what we are told.
Everyone is right as long as we are alone.
The colour of blood runs the same in you and me.
As we try to make one another bleed.
What's mine is mine and yours is yours and we'll keep it all behind locked doors.
Money may not be the fairest form of currency
But it is the liquid form of everything.
From the dirt under your feet to the clothes on your back
To live in a castle or a tinny shack.
Anywhere in the world and anything one does
Is only because someone paid the bucks.
Bills on the counter and dishes to be washed
Everyone worries about the cost.

Short Poem of daily life

The day dawns as the night no longer presses on and the birds sing their morning song. 
Awakened eyes now see past the fog while most open their eyes as the routine goes on. 
Bread on the table, coffee in the glass, don't look at the clock or the time won't pass. 
Left with a list on paper our in your head and when the work is done it is time for bed. 
Every day just like the past, only its one day closer until your last.

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Beeratology

One day I was walking downtown in the city I was born in and I ran into an old friend I used to work with. He told me he was thinking of a new religion called Beeratology and asked me if I wanted to join. 

I asked him what are the rules 

Simple he replied you just need to drink beer.

I am in I said and that was how I became a beeratologist 

As time went on I thought about this and having a religion where you do not drink can lead to terrorism and kill hundreds of thousands of people and having a religion based on drinking wine can lead to too many rules and lead to the death of millions over time. 

So really simple, do you drink alcohol yes? you can be part of it. No then you cannot be. 

I guess we will call it the working class religion. 

The point was raised about what god or savior would the religion have. The answer to that was easy.  

The egyptian mother of the gods Mut, who if there was not beer in here temple it would anger her. So this way you can still have your god and your savior and not interfere with beeratology. But while everyone is arguing and fighting about what religion and god is right. I will be drinking in their mother's house while they are all out there fighting with each other.