Magazine Posts

Streaks of light,
Lightning flashed,
mars my senses and
my soul is bashed.

Upward she went,
as if a kite on a string.
Soaring towards the heavens,
then the kite began to sing.

Sing of a lost, unrequited love.
Sing of those high in the trees.
Sighing of another one,
singing words in a breeze.

How do you believe
in such a weird thing,
allowing it to take flight,
floating like a bird on the wing?

Before it was round,
it was supposedly flat.
Not sure what,
to think about that.

Irational thought,
a rational mind.
Some are confused.
It only takes one kind.

The smell of decay,
makes its presence known.
The sound of Gulls,
makes the beach its own.

The uncertainty of life,
along with a daily deed,
provides the foundation,
for a lifetime of need.

What value, do we place,
on life's path?
If it is not solace,
what is it?

Is it time to expunge,
those words, remaining inside,
or should I wait and
allow those words to hide,

inside my head,
where they will remain,
until their decay comes,
at the end of time?

It's time to purge the data,
from this old man's mind.
I'll work hard on the words,
and be truthful but not unkind.

All the words, jammed within
the aging, old man's brain,
will be truthful but sometimes
will border on insane.

Thoughts about memories of ours,
so many years ago
and all the joy they
brought about our life's show.

Separating all the assumptions
from the truth, at last,
made the years go by,
as quickly as our past.

From out the crowd,
the Gates of Hell,
opened the door,
to Evermore.

Long was the time,
when it was fine.
Life was good,
though I did pine.

My heart is torn,
shredded now,
as it has gone away.
I still wonder how.

From far across,
the woods, so deep,
comes a person,
who cannot sleep.

He stays up late,
why? Who's to say.
He rises early
and starts his day.

How many hours
do you require,
to sleep the night,
but never tire?

"It's a hereditary thing",
he said to me,
"I don't need sleep,
because I'm not thee".

To sleep,
to dwell,
in slumber.
Know it well.

Four hours
of sleep,
shallow nap,
not deep.

Not good,
lacking sleep.
Slumber now,
life's creep.

The time has arrived,
yesterday became today,
it will soon be tomorrow,
a day of impending sorrow.