more better different is a lifetime quest
a natural for the curious playful creative
an inevitable modus operandi not a choice
restless whimsical honest and steadfast
more better different a built-in apparatus
not merely a philosophy more of a genotype
can’t outguess a master ideas always flowing
imagining vulnerable fast download eager
more loving
better impulses
different styles
effortless humor
are you with me?
A waterspout
rained fish.
The fish got a wild ride
in a vortex,
saw the clouds
and some returned
to the sea.
“Tell me,” she says
Not wanting to know
What I do/ don’t
A first date since you…
…as
Inquisition
or
decision on hold
To be
dissected
inspected
or left
In checkmated dread
several moves ahead
And I’m willing to lose
If at the end, the gain
Tells me I’ve achieved
Something close
to feeling again
anything
since then. Since us
I mean to say when
I was less invisible
or whole
or of a piece
that could feel, when I bled
to keep you
and was nothing like this
a day walker among
the ambling dead.
Watching the sun rise
over the horizon,
we had a beautiful
view of the ocean.
Children were finding
sea shells and other treasures
along the shore.
We had weathered many storms
before the sunshine
came our way.
Rather a flaccid child. Not good with his hands,
he chose the high up clouds for his deceptions.
Yet now he never seems to feel or smile
nor any of the rainbowed raves of living
placate the westward ravel of his guile,
neither might the clowns of heaven save him.
Once above a mind, I saw the playground
that rain had pelted red- this was the town-
the vision seemed to roar like some dog-driven ruin,
its reeling state of mind, as empty as a tear.
The open gate beyond the sun was closing,
what followed was the naming of a sphere?
More at https://jimbellamy.simplesite.com.
Dictator, bear me all you know
Or else dictate the mortal shine
Of children, laughing at the show
Of people, as this mortal spine
Breaks, as almost red abandon
Writes away the day of dreams
Whence the heart in mute abandon
Rites aside the mortal screams
Of the dead, as greenest fear
Rips the eyes from out the grey
Milky thralling of the tear
That glows within the forest fey!
Dreams create creations
For all the world’s damnations?
More at https://jimbellamy.simplesite.com.
I softly lay my lips on yours
Maybe love
I hold you within in my heart
In my soul
Every season
Maybe love
Dear
With a simple look
You took my breath away
I don”t know
I cry like a child
When Princess sleeps
there is no sound.
Her dreams are deep.
Castles in clouds on mountain tops.
She gets waited on when her shoes drop
to the ground.
This is what dreams are made of.
surfing internet
reluctant self censorship
rewritten poems
sarcastic sense of humour
hidden in innocent words
More at https://twitter.com/hwl76/status/1170299695702454272.