Lame attempts at poetry, generally written to please myself or as a form of self-prescribed therapy.
What will you ponder When providence calls And you must answer soon -- Passing beyond mortal life And leaving all else behind Concern for loved-ones remaining? Freedom from sorrow and longing? Fear that there's yet more to come? Hope for what is yet to come? Regret for things left undone? Satisfaction in successes hard won? Hot anger and spite? Or calmness and quiet?
Would you pay a penny for a poet's rhyming words, That sent your soul up soaring in the heav'ns among the birds? Or the beauty of the artist who had captured morning's light, Painting a young mother who has nursed a child all night? And don't forget the music that inspires, calms or thrills, Took hours and hours of practice just to master simple trills. So please do not insult us and demean a pricelesswork work, With worthless bits of copper tossed with pity in your look. The slighting little tokens meant to ease your inner shame Are little more than insults to the craftsman and his name. If it only stirs a pennyworth of joy inside of your heart, Keep your token payment and in silence please depart. But if it stirs much more than that - find pleasure in the gift, That they have bestowed on you to inspire or lift.
Not quite feral and yet not tame Undisturbed by hovering parents Who watch quietly from a distance And see the joy of discovery Mostly free they wander the landscape Exploring the wonder about them Touching and tasting and seeing Excitement in the plainest of things Pushing limits and boundaries Taking risks and meeting danger Taught by nature to judge and adapt Learning lessons no school could teach
What to hope or work towards? My wants seem prone to fail, But making plans without them, Is just toil to no avail.
Established by the vision board, To trim the fat and make us lean, Empowerment across the staff, Sharpen swords and keep them clean, Integrate and harmonize, Seamless through the Enterprise, Leverage strengths and globalize, Responsive teams that synergize, Framed in modularity, With built-in scalability, Lulls me to tranquility, Of somnolent serenity.
I wanted once a thousand things, That seem never to be mine. My preference doesn't merit much, To fate I am resigned. My course in life seems rigid set, To shores I'd wouldn't see. Blown away from hopes and dreams, Created just by me. So drifting fast in currents swift, I'm tempted to give in. And dream no more or cherish wants, But follow with the wind.
Wandering widely with no fixed home, Roots too shallow to hold through storms, Suck sustinance without them. Drift with the tide or run with the wind, Scatter remnants and pollinate in passing, Leaving a footprint or impression but no more. The approach of comfort heralds change, Pushed to stretch and shift again, Never quite able to really rest. Pause for a while with what can be carried, Settle in and carve a place called home, A refuge from storms while it lasts.
Rancor and tumult – spices too strongly used Rancid and putrid but liberally applied Flavor discourse and inflame Destroying the middle Division and anger brandished with flair Garnering headlines and attention Pandering to basest of instincts Enriching the masters This giant of men though humanly flawed Had hope for a more perfect future He spoke of reconciliation He would not approve We squander the promise he fought for Many men's blood spilled for unity We ignore their heartfelt pleas We polarize and divide Reconsider the dangerous course we have set Speak with softness and listen much more Seek to understand and discuss Have substantial debates Take a new path built on foundational truths Firmness in right as God gives us to see Malice toward none, charity for all Let us strive on
A monster that devours peace Fosters weakness, pains increase Draining Joy from all around Stealing smiles wherever found Slumbers now just out of sight Banished using all my might What e're you do, don't stir the beast Or give it reason in the least From it's lair to venture out Again to rampage, cry and shout Just let the sleeping demon be So I can heal the happy me.
How do you soothe an injured soul just clinging on to hope, Who just was dealt a deadly blow and is struggling to cope, With private loss and shattered dreams all ruined in one blow, And anguish, guilt and sorrow grave that none can ever know, A frightful future looming large looks nothing like the recent past, Deep wondering if strength's enough and endurance can outlast. While looking on I see the pain I nearly once went through, Wishing against reason there was something I could do, But knowing that there is no way to really comprehend, Or anything that I could do to comfort my poor friend, So I give my prayers and fervent hopes since that's all I can do, And look for ways to lend a hand to him or his small brood.