Blog Archives

If blue was a hue

If shades came in pigmented blues

Would the world recognize the significance of colour as opposed to hues?

Would living in colour stop it’s either this or that?

Would grey get a chance to convince us to investigate?

Would crashing into a slick  navy

crude and  lost at  sea,

Inspire old fashioned candy knots to carry us all back to safety?

If black wasn’t so noir

Would fashion dictate less to those in the savoir?

Would flags become less patronizing?

and white flags more entrancing?

A hue is a hue by its very name

A colour can decide to change and play  – a child-free game.

Rich reds

Glorious Greens

 Would we see who profits from wealth – would we want to change this scene?

Would hearts come together under a purple strewn night? 

Lovers take pleasure dancing in the rain, see each other in a different light?

Emotional attachments are often aesthetically pleasing

Only to the one who is eyeballing the muddied one’s high pitched squealing.

Clarity of light sought in souls and not in places of questionable heaven.

Admirers eyes to skies

Solid legs still rooted in the ground

Unifying all genders of brethren.

How wealthy we are  to have  a landscape of colour

Don’t ignore its beauty in the search for another.

Mike banana

I don’t believe in a day a tee.

I don’t believe in a die a tee.

I believe in emotions.

A parable.

A moral .

A story. A lesson to learn.

If I listened without interrupting ( never filmed my candidates on camera) I would see my past ignorance for intentional hind sight ah.. pause… ( episodic moment).

Should have put a hashtag

(#) may cause seizures * bright lights * drug use * misuse * violence * harsh violence * .

Film censorship can be deceiving.

I watch many films primed or netted for my viewing,

I see the warnings and see violence ,

Albeit sexual violent violence I need a bit of tuning.

I started this off topic ness from listening to a past recorded conversation. I’m out of my depth .

I see

I’m out of my depth.

Now..

I’ve a 6 4 2 bounce back pillow from the silent sisters who muted on their way to the unseen pleides.

Piroutte mode.

Did I lose you to a Mike bananas T- shirt that the mad republic would ask a beetle to submerge These words to a submermarine …. 7 dots of dismal drivel.

Iil

A feud of words

I wish my words had more clout than my mortal weight. Once I wrote, spoke with the light,

A stream of consciousness without a tug from my mind the size of a crate.

Rhyming I sought not to intentionally copulate with.

Nor hesitate my hand from my inner ink.

Words never intentionally separated from their interwoven fate,

From the moment these star crossed others dared to kiss with a brazen grace.

I bear these words with the strength of a boulder ready to crumble

Rush my inner thoughts

Crushmy inner thoughts to a damn them to hell chowder of inner hate.

A feud of words. I hope these won’t be my last or I’ll leave this world a disgrace.

If there was ever a time

If there was ever a time to put your words on display

National Poetry Day is the time to use your voice to say

What is in your heart

What do you feel

Reveal the emotions -at inner play.

Don’t admonish your words merely to paper

Don’t admonish your words merely to your mind

Shout out: I’m worthy. What I’ve to say is enough for today and another and another and ..

National poetry is for more than one day

Make each one count

Not merely the words you deem fit to convey

Your worth is more than hiding away behind myriad of masks to please those who get in your way

Your words are worth more than those whom you justify your truth without causing affray.

Your life story : Not merely poignant

Make your impression

Make your mark

I’m here to stay for more than a moment

more than a hashtag.

Use your words

Use your voice

To guide you to a better life -your way

For better or for worse

You are brave

So, seize your day

Its Okay.

GOAT pancake pie erm…

Pancakes share a growling affair
To boost the morale of the monster with
jowls

Still

hibernating
inside a despairing mind of an almost self redundant writer

groans unable to fit into an unremarkable, once favoured racy red garter.

This poem is quite silly
I could throw a goat in here and call him
Kill Billy…

Because he had a penchant for consuming plenty pancakes with half fat cream cheese

Sell them on the hillside,
he did.

Not far from
ole blighty

With a spring in his hooves,
a dapper smile,
a shimmy in his groove.

Singing through a mouthful of home made shove

This isn’t a poem!
These are words to be damned to the books of ,’oh, Crikey’!