Magazine Posts

The roar of the Ocean,
sounds of the waves.
Seagulls a squawking,
a wind misbehaves.

Would you like the Ocean,
to go there to see,
the sights which surround you,
the beautiful Sea.

Fashionable,
Back in style.
We've been shopping,
at least for a while.

What clothes to wear,
to avoid fashion, faux pas,
and avoid despair,
for everything that was.

He was an Oracle,
with a dubious reputation,
with an obscure response,
after his libation.

Dispensing information,
bordering on calico sky,
he would use ambiguity,
to piece together his lie.

Half-truths were his strengths,
with questions of why.
Whatever words were next
to bolster his grand lie.

Across the country, he travelled,
lying all the way,
Spreading rumors, a plenty,
accepted as truth every day.

Dragon tails,
come into play,
when a Wizard
left, running away.

He couldn't
cast any spells.
Where he went?
No one tells.

Emotions,
running hot or cold.
Emotions,
new and old.

My emotions mired,
in an ugly mess.
My physical condition,
is under stress.

He was young, awkward, shy and retiring.
Staying in the background, avoiding others,
as he tried to navigate in the shadows,
which his shyness had provided.
An introvert, he was. Hesitant to talk or
ask questions, as he questioned his own
knowledge. A lack of confidence.
Now many years have passed. He is no longer,
bashful or shy and is at ease, when talking with
others, friends or strangers.
It may take months, or years of change, in your
environment, to modify behavior.
Life can be good or you can be misunderstood.
Live life to the fullest.

The worm turned,
its ugly head,
toward me and
then he said,

"Hey white boy,
what did you say,
you think you can quit
and run away,

from your past,
in this life's game?"
Hiding again,
when you forgot your name.

Where do you,
think you are?
A stupid man,
who's gone too far.

Running Hard.
Running fast.
Running tired,
Just won't last.

Your creaky slow,
when you start,
then you warm up
and play your part.

Much like life,
in any age,
do another task,
turn the page.

Long lay the flowers,
stems turning black.
Once a lovely bouquet,
now the healthy look they lack.

What happened here?
Why are the still in the vase?
From eternal beauty,
to a dried, ugly face.

There are always stains,
in every place we dwell,
for these the road to perdition
has become a living hell.

We hear the bells ringing,
the essence of hearing the knell.
Across this land of Crafty
Wizards, casting and leaving a spell.

A love of make believe,
or it could be true.
Depends on your imagination,
or upon how you will view.

I'm lost in my mind,
an unthinkable thing,
for knowing the sadness,
and what it will bring.

Think not of others,
before you sing,
for the more power,
the sadness, will bring.

Someday, somewhere,
Angels, will arrive,
to enlighten you,
keeping you alive.

When Dawn breaks,
on a new day,
life will move forward,
a World in which you will stay.