nature (Remove filter)
The latter of the two
This is short and to the point.
life.
no the Earth.
The Earth has given you two choices:
The first being as a scorpion trapped in the deceptive tangles of a well made web, a lemming in man's cycle of destruction, of both the mind and the physical.
The second being as a frog, cherishing the habitation and nourishment received by the lily pad that springs forth of the moist bed, allow...
Sunday 26th November 2017 12:37 pm
To the Waves and to the Sun
You have always been my favorite,
The moment you reach the shore,
With every move you make,
To touch the sand,
Where I wait,
With every sound of splash,
To heal my soul,
Where I am.
You have always bewitched me,
The moment you creep towards the sky,
With every climb above the clouds,
To cast reflection,
Where I am,
With every ray you set free,
To reac...
Wednesday 8th November 2017 7:23 am
The Swan Effect
The Swan Effect Your slender neck and wings so clean
Graceful movement, so serene,
The purest feathers which you preen
Are what attracts the eye.
Curves and power, gliding slow,
Majestic as a river flow
Sleek and gently strong you go
Sli...
Wednesday 11th October 2017 7:06 pm
Roaming amongst the giants
Roaming amongst the giants -
Sooth your mind when you lay next to me.
Trust upon your senses when you roam amongst my white giants.
Taste, when you take in my fruits.
Listen, when you hear me whispering.
Feel, when the lake gravitates up on you.
Watch, and see your spirit transcend away.
Smell, can you detect my presence?
In my kingdom.
Everything is redefined,
Even time
And i c...
Tuesday 15th August 2017 7:43 pm
Deccan's Daughter
Wrap-a-round the waist
Of brown dried leaves
empty nests and lakes
gusts eroded soil
closed ones left her
Summer-of-turmoil
Singed yet yearning
defies upheavals
Sun tries the hope
; had locked clouds
in a deep dungeon
beneath blue shrouds
“Bleak sprouts bliss
, I shall stand tall”
Quips the Queen
one dawn in June
receives a reward
from the monsoon
Brocade black blouse
dren...
Tuesday 18th July 2017 3:10 am
Running Power
Running
I feel
Nothing
But:
Heart whipping the veins
Legs pounding
Lungs heaving
Breath chugging
Muscles relieving
And I'm accelarating faster
And faster
And faster
Till I beat the wind
My legs a blur
Sometime
My legs will tire
But my spirit flies
Yonder
And free
Like the wind
With a whoosh
And
Whoop-tee-dee...
Thursday 13th July 2017 8:44 am
An archer of the woods
I am an artist of words,
an archer of the woods.
A constellation of the brightest stars.
An adventurous being,
with dreams that follow the galaxies.
I seek only wonders,
I seek only peace.
Not mistake me as an ordinary piece.
My arrow strikes in the souls of others.
It does not have an aim but it follows,
it stays inside like a deep wound.
It does not break, it just gets stuck.
St...
Sunday 4th June 2017 4:39 pm
Poetry mix
1.
Time goes on
The world does too
Our Nature grows and dies
Our technology expands and flies
We manifest and destroy
To make ends meet
Even with passing days
We forget about the increasing heat
Or the decreasing ice sheets
Nothing seems important
To global tyrants and corporations
But money and power
At the cost of decreasing our showers
We accept it whic...
Monday 8th May 2017 7:04 pm
Two bird poems
Heron Taking Flight
Rickety, this ruckle
of struts and ragged canvas,
a collapsing tent
of awkwardness
unmade by the earth,
by degrees cranks into
its one true element:
slipping tethers
into air.
________
Preliminary Findings
Preliminary findings
suggest a probable
leakage of fuel
before the tank exploded.
(Cockpit not located
at th...
Friday 3rd March 2017 11:52 am
A warm welcome ...
Hi Everyone,
The Isles of Scilly are a jumble of granite scraps thrown down twenty-eight miles west from the coast of Cornwall. Five of them offer shelter and a living for some one and a half-thousand people. Needless to say, for a community that sits permanently in the eye of Atlantic storms through the winter, and basks in beautiful, temperate Gulf Stream-fed summers, there is no shortage of ...
Thursday 16th February 2017 6:02 pm
Winter's Wolf
The sharp-toothed skirmisher of January past
passes its knives by her cheeks;
the hillside heralds its shredded brown visage,
winter’s wolf howls the bitter conquest of the moors.
The season of concealing crowns and faces,
of cautious feet across the maze of wilted souls
to reach the lone tree, grey lightning petrified in time.
Frozen into the bark are age and time.
...
Monday 9th January 2017 4:51 pm
Recent Comments
Marla Joy on Lions Land.
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on Dominoes
1 hour ago
M.C. Newberry on Combe Gibbet
2 hours ago
Ian Whiteley on Citizens
2 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Sashaying to Byzantium
2 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
2 hours ago
Auracle on Festive FM
4 hours ago
Tim Higbee on Grandfather
5 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
6 hours ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
8 hours ago