The title of this piece is as reflective of my present state of mind as it is of the graphic imagery:
Archive for the 'humor' Category
24
Mar
13
face into madness
22
Mar
13
this life’s place
it’s a sunny day but a cold wind blows
the kind of day it normally snows
though Spring season is formally here
by all accounts this fact has not been made clear
the seemingly endless months of winter’s norm
renders the mind grey as a raging storm
pointless seems the need from bed to arise
especially when snow-flakes float before your waking eyes
woh’s me; want away from this infused-winter gloom
endless back and forth strides in my living room
if this spring-summer’s warmth fails to soon arrive
It’s not sure how much longer this life’s place – I will abide!
22
Mar
13
vocation
prisoner to this world of literary creation
word-smith to constructs of elation
though accolades are a deflation
feedback commentary give indication
if want is for self-immolation
or search for alternate vocation
both a source of much consternation
yielding less pleasure than masturbation
thus rendering this poem to nullification
22
Mar
13
need to be present
This daily cycle of repeated presence seeks to understand by examination of the evidence made available through common channel of communication shared and absorbed by other daily cycles of repeated presence but not equally shared in its understanding for each holds to its own perspective of that presented as reflected by the response illustrated in subsequent common channel of communication shared and absorbed by other daily cycles of repeated presence rendering a varied and at times turbulent response illustrated in subsequent common channel of communication shared and absorbed by other daily cycles of repeated presence thus rendering a unique set of circumstance that ripples through the daily cycle of repeated presence seeking to understand by examination of the evidence made available through common channel of communication shared and absorbed by other daily cycles of repeated presence lending to purpose of need to be present in this daily cycle of repeated presence.
18
Feb
13
NEW BOOK: pre-RELEASE
I am pleased to announce the pre-release of my latest book of poetry titled:
REFLECTION – RESPONSE through the voice of poetry.
As an introduction, this collection of poems is premised on reflection of the many important and diverse issues facing the global human community today and, through the voice of poetry, express my personal response to a perceived affect these issues are having on human, societal evolution. Interspersed amongst these poems are several reflecting a personal philosophy toward life, sexuality and the environment.
I hope you would take a few moments to visit my Self-publishing website to review the contents of this book and I would be further honored if you found it worthy of comment. It will soon be available in a variety of print format including, as an e-book for I-pad and tablet.
Thank you in advance for your time in this regard.
Enjoy:
01
Feb
13
Caffine-Fix
I could live on coffee, and frankly, nothing else
Maybe that’s why I’ve maintained slimness, looking kinda ‘shh-felt’
God knows, I’m not one in need of pant-holding belt,
But frankly too, three daily trips to the loo, is a hard card to be dealt.
I’d gladly relinquish this caffine driven obsession,
But truth be known, this being my public confession:
The drink soothes my axniety and alliviates the depression
Enjoy a bit of creme but avoid the sugar confection
House-brew, no Starbucks or Timmy’s here,
It’s not their coffee, but an unconscious fear:
Caffine-starved, queing clients project a hateful leer
While anxiously waiting thier fix, you know, you best stand clear.
20
Jan
13
Pet
While watching my cute, furry little buddy as he slept, eyes moving about under closed lids and the occasional twitching of his hind and front paws, gave me pause to wonder what is going on inside his little head, what dreams of might is he conjuring to stimulate his otherwise woken world of domestication? Hence the following:
LJ
heavy, eyes slumber from this world of domestication
to enter a nether world of dream’s creation
here as hunter, master of dens procreation
ruler to this land, championing challenge altercation
fed by the bowels of pray fallen by cunning
fear instilled onto others by presence stunning
senses staying acute even in restful sunning
the sudden lurch of power loins see them running
a sudden noise, sensory twitch commands immediate attention
awakening evolution script to assess the situation
muscles involuntarily poised to danger, a confrontation
manifesting only to be human master’s feeding subjugation
12
Jan
13
Blank Page
Feeling compelled to compose something of substance I could only come up with the following due to a strange sense of mind:
A blank page lays before me waiting to be blemished with markings representing some semblance of meaning in the form of words that will express my thoughts in a fashion of form and order that will with luck and exposure, conjure a response within the known and ideally yet to be known, spectrum of human emotion (I would include aliens but they’re not suppose to exist) yet to know exactly what those words ought to be is not exactly clear to me so my intention from this point forward is to basically put down the words as they manifest in that part of my brain responsible for such activity with the hope that I won’t forget what those words are by the time they reach the finger tips of my hands that take on the charge of pushing the keys to the keypad with further hope that I don’t misspell or misuse any specific word such that it throws off any potential reader from realizing the relevance of this piece that appears to be materializing to my astonishment, right before my eyes and further, that the imperative of proper grammar and punctuation is appropriately emphasized and not over done as has been known to occur in past writings that unlike this writing were constructed with a premeditated thought of purpose guiding its development be it a poem, prose or even short story that I am known by those who know me, to have written and several of them I may add, though much of them have yet to be widely distributed for critical review, a review that may prove too harmful to my fragile psyche were the critique to be less then flattering potentially giving rise to not writing anything more – full stop.
04
Jan
13
Poetic Lethargy
Embarking upon this new year 2013, after decades of writing and amassing hundreds of poems, prose and a variety of essay on a spectrum of topic; you might say my `muse to the moment’ so expressed, I have decided when warranted, to provide a preamble to what is posted with the intent of adding context or background. Ideally this will add a touch of `color’ to better illustrate the reason or understanding to the posting’s content.
To this end, here is the first of the 2013 series:
As any writer, author, I experience from time to time a sense of frustration stemming from the seeming inability to attract critical attention to my works. This garners a sense that what is being written is inadequate, superfluous, non-relevant yet, for some unfathomable reason, like an addiction to recreational drugs, I continue to spoon out page after page of material. This frustration from time to time must be expelled by expressing it in written form – a catharsis if you will. Hence, the following:
Poetic Lethargy
Much to write, much to say
This my life, has become the way
Yet, not one heeds the words wrote
Let alone, the words spoke.
There is no special wisdom or insight to behold
But to transcend what my consciousness is told,
The unknown words of thought brought to the light of day,
Leaving to others to interpret what they have to say.
So what becomes of this poetic lethargy?
How to release the creative energy,
To dispel the thoughts, those that come to mind
With want only to make see, the literary blind?
16
Dec
12
The Face I Face
I woke from a darkness to face a face I am not
The last of my memory is being shot
Who have I become with this face I got
Would this be the face I would have otherwise sought?
Is to be forgotten the face of who I am?
Does this face make me the other man?
Will those who love me need start again?
Or have I become a living sham?
Medical science has rendered this face a new life
Has all been cured by a sterile scalpel knife?
Or has the door been open to a life of mental strife?
When in the mirror the face I face, does not appear right.
naykdpoet 