Poetry SpewOh, to catch a fleeting glimpse,
Of this thing called happiness
Is it myth, or is it true?
To answer that is up to you.
And, without a doubt, you'll face
The ever-present lifelong chase
But for a moment you might clutch,
The tattered edges you might touch
Of this thing more myth than true
A happiness for me and you
A drop in the pool, a number in the system.
Is that all I am, or is there somethin' missin'?
How about a person? How about a name?
I'm so very tired of playing the world's game.
When will I be noticed? When will someone care?
When will I become a person, not just a ticket or a fare?
Do I expect too much? Is it too much to ask?
For you to see the woman behind the number mask?
I know it's hard to notice a quiet soul like me,
But I'm growing louder since I've been set free.
Are we doomed forever, just a number to be?
Or is there one who'll notice the person in you and me?
PoemsA poem is a graceful thing
A tale to tell, a song to sing
It flows from lips and pen alike
For older man or little tyke
A steady rythym, like a gait
A horse's hooves, the sounds relate
Born of passion for the word
A beauty to all those who've heard
A strong desire for a little rhyme
To make it perfect takes some time
A poem is a greaceful thing
So say it loud and make it ring
A Case of Pride
Shes so beautiful; the woman who lies under the covers of my recently vacated bed. The morning sun streams through the window and highlights streaks of red in her hair; the last of the dye finally fading.
Shes so beautiful, I think again. How did a guy like me end up with a woman like her?
I hear the sheets rustle as she wakes to find me gone. John? she calls. I wave over my shoulder and continue to write. I hear her sigh and fumble with her glasses. Her hairs a mess as she walks past me in shorts and my t-shirt. It looks better on her.
I hear the water running and the cabinets slamming in the bathroom. The angry sounds let me know her allergies are bothering her. Id best not mess with her today. I smile as I remember her constant sniffling five years ago when we were dating; the way she wrinkled her nose was so cute.
I bet youre wondering why I obsess over this woman so. Well, Ill tell you, but its a bit of a story:
When I was a bo
The Cowboy Rides Away
Left? Right?... No, up! Hell never find me!
Maggie jumped and grabbed a tight hold on the branch above her, bracing her feet against the tree as she began to climb. She let out a soft squeal as two strong arms grabbed her and pulled her into the pile of damp, colorful leaves under the tree. The attacker began to tickle her and she fought and struggled, sending leaves flying into the air.
I cant breathe! I cant breathe! she gasped. Garret, stop!
Garret relented and stopped tickling her, but hung his head and pouted. Aw but its so fun.
Not on this end, Maggie laughed, sitting up, bits and pieces of leaves falling from her hair. She moved closer to Garret, resting her head on his shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling the remaining leaves from the red curls. She sighed softly, she loved it when he played with her hair, and relaxed completely against him.
Your mothers going to worry,