City of Lights

Image Source: Patheos.com

Pity the fool who dances on the corner

His moves badangling, a goofy surprise

A jelly legged man called a porter

Disguised in a black suit and shiny cap.

Braggarts in the kitchen's closet

Smacking sticks and taking names.

Pity the fool who dances on the corner

His exploits wrangling, a roofy arise

A mad hatter and colorful suitor

Rambling in curses upon a sap.

This is in response to the Midweek Motif over at Poet's United.

Astrological Crabs

It grows rapidly within me.

Each day passing is a struggle.

In between the spaces of my voice

Lies a sore soul willing to speak

Not of sorrows and hard times

But of enlightenment and truth.

Running With Time

This poem was written as a challenge from Poet's United Midweek Motif. It is the result of the Famous, Infamous, Un-Birthday challenge. 

"Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities." -- Dr. Seuss

A picture of time flying. From an article on Edudemic.

Silver streaks the sky of blue

Another year through and through

But alas this isn't the day it all ends

For this is where the real story begins

Reaching like a child unto the heavens

Make a wish upon a star as it glimmers

Rush forth through the air with upmost glee

And wander into the world in which your were three.

The longer it takes you to blow out that flickering candle

The longer you will live to cross those white sands in sandles

Stop

Appreciate all the graying hairs left on your head

For one day you most assuredly will be dead

And everything will move in reverse

As it goes in this universe

Memories all the same

Or so we'd wish

As time begins

To diminish

Instead.

Thought for the Reader: What will you do with the time you have?

Plucked From The Apple Tree

"Poison Apple" by SinfulEyes of Deviant Art

In this orchard of silver apples upon the trees

Is temptation served on a platter, but lest

Picked by none other but the delicate hand

Of the eternal strife between mankind and I

A chrome masterpiece upon the bar stool.

Waiting to be tapped from the faucet of hops

Into a tall glass of water and lustful hysteria

Swirling around in circles from laced wisteria

Her delicate and soothing bliss a tremor

On the lips of a fallen angel whose wings

Lift me into the lost and forgotten sky.

I drank the applesauce and licked my fingers

Clean of the red blood so delicately streaming

And tasted of the seven deadliest of sins,

But I didn't listen to the asp of the silver trees

Nor my father who knew better than I,

And now I lay here in squandering sire

Spread eagle in the chemicals of my desire.

A nice little twist on the poisoned apple from Snow White mixed with concepts of the Garden of Eve.

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.

Poetry Pantry #231: Ice Skating

"Ice Skating" by Kafubra
(Wikimedia)

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."

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Poets United Midweek Motif: For Your Right

"Freedom of Thought -- Ben Franklin"
(Wikimedia)

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.