Wednesday, December 31, 2014


Here is my submission for Get Listed 2014 on the Imaginary Garden. In a way, I attached this story to the previous post that I made earlier, Life Magazine, and could easily be read together. This would be the moral of the story at the end of the rainbow. Enjoy! Happy New Year everyone!

"A Very Britain New Year" by Christmas Tree Shops
When the shadows of the distant past travels up your spine
A sort of tingle grips you from the inside out
In an embrace that is both chilling and full of enamor,
But those shadows are just water under the bridge
Because in the rise of an upcoming step towards the future
We have so much steam, and begin to realize that commodity
Doesn't always fit like a glove, but rather falls short
Of what few possibilities that may be in front of our eyes.
Taking opportunity in mid stride is like sitting on the bed,
Dangling your fit off from the edge of a cliff,
And listening to the musical notes of trepidation
Falling upon the floor-boards gentle as a feather.
Look to the horizon for something beyond near sight,
Upon the bridge of your nose, and take a leap.
Only then will you realize that all the shadows behind you
Are just simple patterns on the wallpaper of life.  

Here are the words that I used for this Real Toads challenge: music, few, grip, feather, glove, steam, embrace, rise, fall, water, shadow, bed.

Question: No question this time, just a Happy New Year wish from me to you, my readers! :)

Life Magazine

"Life Magazine Motto" by Pixgood
Flipping through the pages of this Life catalog:
Natural mountains miles high
Technological medical
Famous Amos, the fortune cookie
And various woman in pink.

Not quite sure where to climb,
Or what kind of surgery I want more.
I would certainly settle for chocolate chips
And the pretty blonde in the polka dots.
I'll try not to romanticize, if I can.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Change in the Wind

What are you thinking and feeling about the start of another new year?

"Seagull in Free Flight" by J. L. Johnson
There is a change in the trade winds
I can feel them flapping my wings
With a bird's eye view I can see
Something in the clouds up ahead.
Stirring with lightning I rescind
The pathways that are behind clippings
For past that lightning is a tree
From which I can perch and shed
All the feathers that are dull and old
Just like the tomes that I now hold
Fleeing south for the winter I will
For there are no storms in that still
And calm, the breeze carries forth
Unlike the coldness in the north.
A wise owl told me of the woodwinds
That lay beyond the bordering springs
I'll fly over that ocean blue sea
With my new feathers wide spread.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Palm Trees and Banana Leafs

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."
William Shakespeare
Sunny Shores (Stock Vault)
One hundred years, waves crashed the shores
Wrinkles omnipresent, like the furled up sands
And dull gray pearls, as far as the distant horizon.
On a creaking porch made of beach-wood stood
What was left of a full life, bones and strings
A sagging rucksack and a frail composure.
Wiry yarn laid crumpled like a robin's nest
A crown that revealed the years of service,
And for as long as the dusty library remembered
This view before pale pearls, a magnificent sunrise.
Bright rays covered the bones up in a blanket
A sparkle wetting the white sandy surface
Glinting from light that breached the shores

One hundred years, waves crashed upon paradise.

Question: "What life would you unravel if you lived 100 years?"  

Sunday, December 28, 2014


This is a poem dedicated to the Play It Again, Toads! #12 challenge of revitalizing an archived challenge. For this one in particular I have chosen to revitalize the In Five Minutes or Less challenge.

"Musical Notes" by Pixabay
The heavy drop of the beat
Thump thump thumping
To the rhythm of the strings
Whose stinging slips through
ear holes
In and out of my brain
A symbol tings
with aluminum and brass
The percussion drift so smooth
I guess it is just a one man band
But then again it is simple sounds
Mashed together in perfect harmony
It is like ecstasy to my ears
My secret overdose of drugs

That we call music  

Question: "What tampers with your passions?"

Saturday, December 27, 2014


This is my first attempt at reading my poetry out loud. I hope that all of you like it, and please leave any tips or constructive criticism that you'd like to share.

Like clockwork we are pulled by strings
Of a theory that isn't full of shame,
But of triggers and springs, and revolving things
Inside and out we spread wanderlust and fame.
When the light comes over the dawn
And the singers of lore call out our song
We strode into that precipice and battled
All that we knew of our brethren's shadows.
Long hard stones were cast into the shores
With longboats and covered up whores
Like a pirate's booty we crumpled in fears
Of the possibility of something beyond our years
Something strange and unusual to the eye
Something that our crystal orbs could not scry
For when the battle was over it was already won
Cause that is how the story was sung.
But let us put our backs to the incoming winds
Whose trademarks cover every corner of the earth
Because when the shadows of our brethren comes
We will soon never forget the memories that birthed
Upon that hazy battlefield in the deep west
Forlorn to the conscience we had known best
But instead let thus pull every single string
Instead of embracing the peace we could bring.
Let us now remember the fallen for who they are
Because without them we would be lost by far
To the children of the desolate sands
Who tried to steal our grace and rightful lands
Home of the glory and the brave
For the two towers whose shadows we couldn't save
But will always be remembered in lore
As the beginning of a never-ending war.   

Question: "What revolutions do you remember or bring?"

Friday, December 26, 2014


This is my contribution to the Musical Inspiration Challenge. I decided to write about how writing gets a lot of stress off from my shoulders.

"Musings" by The Penultimate Word

Inside of my head there are musings
Some of which should be left unsaid
And when those musings are released
So are the words that follow the beast
Because sometimes those words are harsh
And sometimes they are kind, but all in all
They are definitely words of mine.
There are musings of singing and dancing
To the jazz and the waltz
There are musings of laughter and cheer
Although there is drinking involved
And sometimes there are musings unkind
Musings I've wished I never said
So instead I'll sit at my laptop desk
And type of the musings of my head.

Question: "What do you do to keep thoughts from stressing you out?"

Musical Inspiration Challenge #1

So I've been wanting to do this for a while now. It has been in the back of my creative mind for far too long. So here it is. I will be starting a new challenge every once in a while where anyone who writes poetry can participate. This isn't a competition to see whose poem is better than someone else, but a chance for those who participate to explore their writing roots further. It also gives people a chance to share their writing. I encourage all of you to write something, and to please comment and share with others. 

I've been listening to a lot of music lately and the song "The Only Way Out" by Bush has been giving me a lot of influence lately. In an interview with the World Famous KROQ 106.7 radio show with Kevin & Bean, Gavin Rossdale, lead singer of the rock band Bush, told them what his new song meant: 

“It comes from the record Man On The Run, Man On The Run being this concept, a cross section of all of our lives. Trying to fit everything in. Trying to be successful. Trying to be the best we can and the challenges that go with that, for guys and girls, and the only way out is through being the uplifting concepts of the way I try and do it.”

For this challenge I want all of you to think about the uplifting concepts of the way you try and find a way out of something.

Please share you poem links here, and don't forget to link your blog back to here.

Artistic Interpretations Challenge: Wonder

"Beauty is a form of genius - is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation."  -- Oscar Wilde

This poem is in dedication to the Artistic Interpretations Challenge at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.

"Landscape Composition" by M. Bednar
As I stand here in wonder
I can't help but to ponder
What is beyond those mountains?
Is it the endless blue sky
Whose clouds soar and fly,
Or the sea of endless mounds
That are upon earthly bounds?

Broken Glasses

So I stumbled upon quite a grievance the other day while cleaning my glasses. I was wiping them off and heard a small snap. As if the slight tremble in my hands wasn't enough to tell me the big picture. I looked down and saw my frame had snapped and broken. The funny thing is that it broke with the slightest applied pressure. As if it was destined to break. Of course, this happening a day after Christmas day, I was really unimpressed. Stomping and screaming, which wasn't getting me anywhere, I steamed and vented. So the next day I just went to Walmart and got a new frame for my lenses. Didn't much care what they looked like. Just as long as I could see without the hassle of holding my lenses in place. So here is a poem dedicated to that defining moment of my life. 

"Broken Glasses" by 1734 CUPE
The light seems to thicken, but only for a moment
For the light soon fades into antiquity
And my vision begins to form a Gaussian blur
I walk around aimlessly as my eyes become dormant
Because everything whips around and is bleary.
I need to find an answer soon, an eye-shot baler.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014


Enter the light tapping at my window
Before thought comes a storm relentless
Everything is all a rush of traffic
Swirling in circles around and around
Dazed by the rapid succession of movement.
The slothful nature of being lifts itself
Up and up from its natural surface
Bewilderment of the clock flying out the window
Reaching out to grab it, but alas a miss
Is it just a figment or is this deja vu?
Take that one step forward, do it,
Swing those empty logs upon the bridge
Cross the crosswalks to the rain room
And let the cold and warm waves crash down
Down upon the slothful surface that stands
So that it might escape the wild jungle

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Gray Sky

"Gray Sky" by Aurrum
(Deviant Art)
The gray is unsettling and hurtful to the eyes
So I'll imagine a spring-like view in the sky
A deep aqua blue as large as an ocean
hovering over me
With puffy white boats to sail through it.
I'd rather patch pirates invade that sky above
Than look at the gray empty screen that covers it.
Their battles relentless as waves crash down upon my face.
Crash! Boom! The cannons roar back and forth,
Waiting to see who will come out in victory.
Any bit of excitement in that dreary gray sky.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Twas' The Life of An Every Day Gamer

(Adweek News)
Surrounded by clutter in every corner;
Clothes piled upon the wooden floor,
Like a bag of trash ready for takeout,
Bowls of empty ramen soup,
Chicken flavored, stacked miles high,
McDonald’s big mac wrappers scattered,
Blowing around like tumbleweed.
The lights are dimmed down
Setting the mood, ready for the showdown.
Beep. The Xbox 360 console turns on,
Grabbing my controller in hand,
Time to escape for a little while.

Friday, December 19, 2014

The Shadow in the Light: Episode 1 - Enter the Light

"Druid" by 632Fan
(Deviant Art)
The stag prince and his thorns
Sat upon the Throne of Horns
His hand upon his stubbled chin.
He looked into the misty sin
That his younger brother had foretold
And contemplated what must be said
For the leaves were growing old
And soon his father, the King, dead.

A soldiers query could submit the eerie:
Shadows in the light, and surrounded by blight,
The death couldn't be any more dreary.
He could quest for the best in all the land
Hiring mercenaries, witchery, and knights,
In hopes of finding the beast of the night
Across that unhallowed hands of sand.

Deep in the crevices of the ground and dirt
Surpassing the fossils and layers of pert
Are the bellows of the deep abyss
Where the haunted river streams called Styx.
There the stag prince could find his key
To the troubles boiling in the kingdom's tree
So entering the light he would try

For his father's soul he would buy.

This is the first part of a new poetic adventure series that I will be writing. Please tell me what you think.

Real Toads Challenge: Year of Memories

"Memories Will Never Fade" by Franzey Fragility
(Frost Box)
This is for the Real Toads challenge Broken Hearts & Auto Parts as posted by Marian. Hope you all enjoy it! :)

It has been a speed-ball this year
Going from one place to another
As if the original didn't matter
Just to look over your shoulder
At the place you used to hover
Just for mere seconds it would seem
Although it had been for a century

Thursday, December 18, 2014

An Unlikely Oxymoron

"Passive Activism" by Markwojtasiak
(Restless Beings)
Bouncing steadily in centered pace
It will collapse with tidiness and grace
Around in straight circles through the air
Like a square balloon in a chair
What am I you would say?
A deviant innocence or a mocking jay,
Perhaps a subtle jinx or common rarity.

No matter what questions answered
An oblique flatness is in the crossword
Between gregarious necessity and obstinate obesity
For nowhere can I be found
Inside the outside sound
Of the silent trumpet and delicious crumpet
That lays standing upon the carpet.

Maybe it is unlikely probable
Or maybe I'm cordial unsociable
But I know who I am, and who I am not
And that is an unwritten thought
Inside the outside part
Of a guy not named Scott;
Oxymoron, or not.

Question: "What opposites do you feel attract?"

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Twelve Days of Christmas #5: Five Golden Rings

"Christmas Bells"
(CBC News)
Upon the sunrise a midnight dream
Passes over the mountainside with a gleam
It rings in the passing of the season
As the billowy winds bring in reason
On the fifth day the church bell ringed:

It first rang for the angelic fairy
Whose glimmering wings shone aplenty
Reflecting her presence with utmost grace
Like raindrops of silvery dew
Caressing the surface of the chalice.

Poet's United Midweek Motif: Musical Magic

There is a magic within us all, and this women stands out among us all. She weaves glamorous magic that entices the soul. So for this Motif I am reveling in her song. Lindsey Stirling is such a magnificent violinist, and her energy is always apparent. No matter how many times I listen to her, I always manage to feel enlightened from it all. So let us bask in her musical magic in this poem.

In lands long forgotten
And over mountains bold
Lies a journey full of wonder
For those who have the courage.

Real Toads Challenge: Fighting Is For the Reckless

"Fighting in the Streets"
(Art of Manliness)
Is it plausible that man kind could do
Such a thing as revel in a slew
Of accusatory actions, that will lead
Into a horrible Greek tragedy?
Everywhere there seems to be plight
Devastation in the air, bombs take flight
Shaking the very foundation we stand
Upon a deserted company of land.
What qualms could there be
To break that breaking point
Where weapons are the key

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Poetry Jam: Pages of Joy

"I Can Read You Like An Open Book" by Francois Phillip
Over and over the pages turn
Dust from the cover, and serve
A platter of words delicious and trite
Words that smother me in the night
Over and over the pages turn
Without suicidal cuts I assure
This mystery is an extraordinaire
At capturing criminals, out of thin air
Over and over the pages turn
Where the breath of fire serves
As an adventurous blight
For the warriors of light
As we climb atop that castle
Over and over the pages turn
Full of a clamor of choice
And abstract voices
Who beckon and call

For a reader who'll read them all.

Question: "What kinds of things make you joyful?"

Check out this poetry blog: Poetry Jam

Twelve Days of Christmas #4: Roasting of the Blackbird

"Blackbird Pie"(MWC Board)
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

In some cultures the bird is a treasure
Its charcoal wings covered in soot
As it flaps through the air
Encircling the prey that is below
For they are carrion eaters
And they see through people's eyes
Piercing the veils in which we hide
Inside our warm and comforting stockings.
It is tradition that old Mother Hubbard
Look into her pantry for flour
Butter, and a silver pan.
She licks her fingers of the sauce
And tastes of chicken after the stir
And into the oven she will bake
A blackbird pie, or rather a cake.
Although it may be frowned upon
In most cultures they say

Sense Deprivation

"Cafe Central in Vienna" by Andreas Praefcke
As I sit and ponder in this armchair
I can't begin to describe each feature
That surrounds me in this room
Where a gray light glimmers down
Upon my shoulders.

A faint reflection of a tree
Grows upon a mirrored screen
Just behind my self portrait,
It's limbs extend beyond
The spaces that I stand upon.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Who Are We?

This poem was inspired by a fellow poetic enthusiast, Kenia Cris, from the blog "An exercise on existing." She wrote a beautiful poem about how our culture seems to have developed a sense of labeling other human beings with certain stereotypes, and how it isn't right for us to be pinning this labels on people. In fact, I couldn't have agreed with her more on this subject. We do live in a culture that is accepting this kind of behavior, when we shouldn't be. So here is a very raw poem that I had just written in response to Kenia's poem, "No immutable observation is true." 

"Be Yourself" by David Hudson

What is invisible to most
Only the heart can see
For when you cover both petals
You can see only darkness.
There is a light in this though.
A light that will shine through,
a light that will reveal
happiness, strength, loyalty,
So many of the things that WE
Take for granted.

Open Link Monday: A Murder of Crows Left Behind

"Wheatfield With Crows" by Vincent Van Gogh
When I saw the crows that morning
I knew there would be a murder
Nothing too typical, but caustic
Stains on my relished ego.
I can’t help but wonder
About you, who I loved
Those many years…

Twelve Days of Christmas #3: Three French Hens

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

"Three French Hens" by Dylan Meconis
A clutch of them chirped and stared
Their beady black eyes up in the air
They watched as goslings did
Until their mother came and they fed.
Not the hardened corn spread,
But the warm milk that was heaven's sent.
It was upon each Christmas day
That a glass would be put by the hay
Left for the father rooster and pheasants
Who would leave the most wonderful presents
So in the morning they would say,
“I have three french hens in the hay.”

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Poetry Jam: The Noises Inside My Head

This poem is in response to Peggy's jamming Tuesday challenge. The topic was to talk about what we feel the word "quiet" means.

"Jake the Dreaming" by Android Jones
The noises inside my head,
they are like tantrums of a little boy:
the pounding and kicking like drums,
the fighting and the clashing of swords.
A pen in hand, and ink pot next to that,
I draw the fantasies inside my head:
Dragon breath, flames emblazoned
Upon a shield it clashes like a hot temper.
A war cry sounds forth from the trumpet
and all of the battlefield can hear
as the slicing and dicing comes, like tomatoes
their limbs fall upon the ground, 
dead and limp.

Twelve Days of Christmas #2: Two Turtle Doves

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

"Two Turtle Doves" by Trudi Doyle
(Fine Art America)

Elegantly the snow falls down onto my finger tips
I put my sultry wet finger to my lips
It is cold to the touch, but boils deep red.
The warmth comes closer to bare
As our wings clasp around each other
And I can't stop this delightful feeling
The feeling of hearts soaring in the sky
Higher and higher, as we delve into a pile of snow
Its cold embrace nothing like the snowmen
But just cold enough to leave prickles on our nose.
Like two turtle doves who dive to the ground
Their hearts leaping over bounds
Knowing that this could be their last wish
But trust with each other a loving kiss
Underneath the twinkling stars at night
When the aurora shines most bright;
Like an ocean of green and red waves
Purple hairs and a yellowish haze.
It crashes upon us, but we don't care,
Because she is my turtle dove

And forever our lives we will share.

Question: "If there is someone who you love this holiday season, please show them how much you love them."

Poetry Pantry #231: Ice Skating

"Ice Skating" by Kafubra
The winter chill settles around you
         And it feels like you are numb
                 But then you feel the gliding pull
                         And sudden warmth from your thighs
                              To your feet.
                                                        Eventually the winter becomes elegant
                                    Like a dove or snowflake falling to the ground
                         When you spin around and around
                 In twisting somersault of perfection and expertise.
            Zig zags
                                     Cover the icey floor you’re upon
                                                And you begin to feel the shift and sway
                                                        Carrying on to the music in the background
                                                                      Like jingles and jangles of Christmas air
                         Escaping from the outside world for just a glimmering moment
                Just to crash to your bottom
   And stand up tall.

Question: "What wintry past time do you enjoy? Leave your answer below in the comments."

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Twelve Days of Christmas #1: Partridge Feathers And Pears

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree!

"Partridge in a Pear Tree" by Etsy
High above in the sky was a whistle I heard
A whistle vibrantly sung with elegance
And when I heard the song I wondered
In my head, whether I would dance
Upon the clouds perhaps?
Kind of like jumping on your bed as a child
Except that the blankets and pillows flew
Higher and higher as you jumped
With the tears at the seams sending feathers
Up like a partridge and back down again.
“Hey look at all the snow!”
I'd point my fingers at all the feathers.
“The partridge left us a surprise”
Though I didn't quite believe my eyes
Not even for a moment, until now
Sweet as a pear was the moment
That I cherished it with a hugging embrace

Friday, December 12, 2014

Fly Away

"Xubuntu Fly Away -- Take Two" by leogg!
Flying in the air on a string
I am tethered to a little hand
This little hand that holds me king
King of the circus and faire
I like how the wind blows
Across my facets and curvatures
As I sway to and fro, and side to side
Gasping at the crowds that go by
Then I look up at the blue world above
And can’t help but wonder

Thursday, December 11, 2014

The Escapist

"The Open Door" by La Duque
(Deviant Art)
Within these four walls--
Like a box--
Unable to escape, to the rim
Where sparks of lightning stream
Flowing like a waterfall.

I question whether this is reality
Or is this my tamed mind?
Is all this scuffle and scattered
Paper all I need?

Poets United Midweek Motif: For Your Right

"Freedom of Thought -- Ben Franklin"
Freedom is without a definitive word
For only you can make it or break it
When you speak before the worldly jury
Taking a stand against the reckless
The ones who mock and shackle
The ones who torture and kill
The words that come from your mouth.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The Crow

"Crow On A Branch"
(Brooklyn Museum; Wikimedia)
He preys upon the frail and mortal
He escorts the sun out into the nocturnal
Into the depths of Hell
The crow has pierced you
Eating upon thy carrion

Apollo asks the crow to journey
Into the aquatic domain below
He commands thee
“Return with the purity below
Replenish the aqueduct of the sky above”

Instead the mocking bird feeds
On figs a plenty
A tree born unripe
Yet he lingers upon the tree
In delay of the tasks at hand