Category: Poetry

Rhymed and unrhymed, form or free, this is where the poetry lives.

Nature’s Song of Light and Dark

lindastudley5 Comments

Darkness drains between the branches,
spills across the forest floor,
hides in shade of crumbling logs
left from trees that went before.
Hides in shadowed nooks and crannies
hidden on the forest floor.

Brightly singing sunshine rises
pushes darkness farther back
hounding shadows into hiding
into deepest, darkest cracks,
as if day were in denial
that the night could e’re come back.

But soon enough the song will change
as sunshine slides away to sleep
and the shadows all unwind
to begin their upward sweep.
Cooling breath that sings the scales
from earth to sky in upward sweep.

Night to day and night again
the endless dance continues on,
and though our brains try to ignore it,
hearts beat out the ancient song.
Long to dance in light and shadow,
Long to beat to nature’s song.

#115

What it’s For

lindastudley2 Comments

When it’s dark I can believe
that there are still leaves on the trees
and blossoms bloom outside my door.
That’s what imagination’s for.

And when I close my eyes and see
my long lost friends and family
I’m not so lonely anymore.
That’s what memory is for.

And when the world looks far too grim
I load my paintbrush to the brim
and paint a new world to explore.
That’s what inspiration’s for.
#114

I hereby invoke the power of my poetic license to absolve me of the guilt in ending sentences prepositions with.

Word Geek

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‘Eye to eye’ means I agree
with you, and you with me
and ‘nose to nose’
might come to blows
though not usually.

‘Toe to toe’ means no holds barred
(There’ll probably be scars)
But ‘cheek to cheek’
is kinda sweet
when dancing ‘neath the stars.

So I’ll ‘be all eyes’ and ‘follow my nose’,
I’ll make sure I ‘stay on my toes’,
and if you call me a ‘word geek’
I’ll simply ‘turn the other cheek’

#113

I Was

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I was like a paint by numbers
missing half the pots of paint,
sporting blank white blotches
on my soul.
You came along and carefully
filled in the empty spaces,
with the colours of your love
you made me whole.

I was like an empty window
looking blankly at the world,
impervious to sunshine
and to rain.
Till you hung a prism inside
and a whirligig beyond
and I discovered how to
live again.

I was like an empty suitcase
living on forgotten memories
until you packed your heart
inside of me.
And I promise that I’ll keep it
safe and locked away from pain
and only you and I will
have the key.

#112

Really?

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Some would have us all believe externals do not matter,
that everything resides within and we control our fate.
the former may be true but I tend to doubt the latter
‘cause minus forty’s deadly no matter what your mental state.

It isn’t safe to disregard what’s really real around you
and think you can control the laws of physics with your mind,
but yes, you can ignore the window dressing that surrounds you
and walk right by the foolish ads, if you are so inclined.

The trick, it seems to me, is knowing what is or isn’t real
and knowing what to pay attention to, or leave alone.
Adjust yourself to fit the facts no matter how you feel.
Adjust the fiction to fit yourself and all the stress is gone.

#111

It’s a Freakin’ Winter Wonderland Out There

lindastudley2 Comments

The woods outside my window
that not too long ago
were green and lush and filled with birds
are now just filled with snow.

I’m hoping this is just a drill
a sloppy, wet ‘dry run’
‘cause I’m not done with autumn yet,
there’s still a lot of fun

I haven’t had and bonfires
I never got to light.
It’s still too soon to trade the leaves of gold
for piles of white.

If I was in charge of things,
if I could have my say,
snow would fall on Christmas week
then quickly melt away.

Brisk autumn weather would prevail
with lots of sunny skies.
But nature is a fickle twit
who likes to improvise.

The woods outside my window
are white but I still dream
that twixt Chinooks and El Nino
we may still see some green.

We all cope in different ways
to overcome our trials,
so for the next six months I think
I’ll slip into denial.
# 110

All Saints’ Eve or Halloween, All Hallows’ Eve or Samhain

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All Saints’ Eve or Halloween, All Hallows’ Eve or Samhain.
Tonight the veil is thinner and the starry night is prowlin’
with rowdy revellers, masqueraders, and jack-o-lantern jesters
who plunge their hands through the misty veil to greet their lost ancestors.

Do not fear the dead, my friend, they’ve better things to do
than haunt a house or frighten timid folk like me and you.
Fear more the ignorant living, who use the blessed night
to feed their need for power and greed by giving you a fright.

So here’s to those who’ve gone before, a toast to those who’ve left.
They never meant for you to feel abandoned or bereft.
And if the veil is thinner now and the date auspicious,
perhaps they’ll hear you toasting them and treasure your well wishes.

All Saints’ Eve or Hallowe’en, All Hallows’ Eve or Samhain.
if there was naught to fright before, there’s naught to fright you now and
do no harm to man nor beast, but let your heart be true
for the only evil you should fear is what you bring with you.
#109

What I’ve Learned of Love

lindastudley2 Comments

Foolish poets speak of love
Foolish lovers quote the poets
they pine and swoon and long for love
till someone else deigns to bestow it.

Poet, lover, both aspire to
lose themselves in someone’s eyes.
Aspire to give their heart away
as if it were some tawdry prize.

I’ve been loved and have loved also,
and what I’ve come to understand
is two can’t become one unless
each are strong enough to stand

alone, but choose to be together,
each one absolutely free
to find delight in one another
and be just as they want to be.

#108

Okay Expectations

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Shoot for the moon, go big or go home,
We’re encouraged to reach for the top
in a single great bound, a Herculean leap,
to not know the meaning of stop.

We’ve put all our energy into the struggle
to accomplish our great expectations.
We are the weapons we hurl at our targets
no time for calm contemplation.

Instead of aiming for great expectations
Maybe this is what we should do…
just relax and accept it’s alright to reach
for okay expectations too.

#107

Tools

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A knife in the hand of a sensible person
can carve a toy or slice the bread
but in the hand of the cruel or evil
becomes a bringer of death instead.

An axe can be used to chop enough wood
to keep the winter’s cold at bay
or used by despots to silence the ones
whose dream of freedom get in their way.

Not long after Bell invented the phone,
that travellers use to call back home,
it was probably used by someone shady
to part life savings from little old ladies.

And the internet used correctly yields
all the knowledge we could possibly wish
unless perverted by despicable creeps
who cheat and lie and hack and phish.

And now we have the 3D printer
perfect for making prosthetic limbs
but in some back room some twisted mind
is making a bomb for a purpose grim.

So it seems for every advance we make
there’s always those who ignore the rules.
and it’s not the tool that does the harm,
it’s the tool who holds the tool.

#106