Poems :: Poems

Poems Change Certain things vary everyday, tides lap various portions of sandy gold and land is illuminated and darkened with clock like accuracy. Like cammilions, hills and land periodically display their transient colors with no regard to its inhabitants needs, preferences or even life. Everyday change, insignificant, expected and unshoking when it occurs, no emotional distress or even flickers of eye lids. Those firecrackers of life, however, sting with flaming relentless pain as if being attached by legions of jelly fish intent on wreaking havoc. Like all wounds, the stings heal, but not without hours upon hours of termites gnawing on the brain, infesting every thought with the jelly fish stings. One asks, why must they experience firecrackers, they didn't light the fuse, why should they endure the relentless stings And mind gouging termites? Left or Right? Crime, or right of choice disdained by others- From different eyes, colors change and evils shift. On the right stand pillars, stern, intrenched in dogma drilled in from the crib, etched like the Grand Canyon. In which evil is evil and good is good, it is written, it is said and so it shall proceed- What isn't broken in some eyes doesn't require fixing- Apposed, left winged donkeys flying for an utopian dream existing only in books fashioned by scholars, where right is that which causes no harm, choices aren't made illegal based on perspective and not adversity. As long as grey haired tablets continue to decree antiquated perceptions, no person, of any soil, con revel in the exalted presence of true Liberty. Reality If ever there was an ambiguous word, one which is entirely defined individually it would be reality. Where one person sees pleasure and serenity, another sees blatant sin and sloth and yet another is completely indifferent. One hears the mention of god and falls to his knees in obedient fear, while someone else grimaces at the mindless dogma. Viewing a santa figuring evokes good memories for one and rips through another with recollections of a traumatic, life altering winter experience. For everyone, different events and feelings lead to a separate reality for all, one's revulsion will always be another's pleasures. Sentience How grand a thing it would be, Poems :: Poems Poems Change Certain things vary everyday, tides lap various portions of sandy gold and land is illuminated and darkened with clock like accuracy. Like cammilions, hills and land periodically display their transient colors with no regard to its inhabitants needs, preferences or even life. Everyday change, insignificant, expected and unshoking when it occurs, no emotional distress or even flickers of eye lids. Those firecrackers of life, however, sting with flaming relentless pain as if being attached by legions of jelly fish intent on wreaking havoc. Like all wounds, the stings heal, but not without hours upon hours of termites gnawing on the brain, infesting every thought with the jelly fish stings. One asks, why must they experience firecrackers, they didn't light the fuse, why should they endure the relentless stings And mind gouging termites? Left or Right? Crime, or right of choice disdained by others- From different eyes, colors change and evils shift. On the right stand pillars, stern, intrenched in dogma drilled in from the crib, etched like the Grand Canyon. In which evil is evil and good is good, it is written, it is said and so it shall proceed- What isn't broken in some eyes doesn't require fixing- Apposed, left winged donkeys flying for an utopian dream existing only in books fashioned by scholars, where right is that which causes no harm, choices aren't made illegal based on perspective and not adversity. As long as grey haired tablets continue to decree antiquated perceptions, no person, of any soil, con revel in the exalted presence of true Liberty. Reality If ever there was an ambiguous word, one which is entirely defined individually it would be reality. Where one person sees pleasure and serenity, another sees blatant sin and sloth and yet another is completely indifferent. One hears the mention of god and falls to his knees in obedient fear, while someone else grimaces at the mindless dogma. Viewing a santa figuring evokes good memories for one and rips through another with recollections of a traumatic, life altering winter experience. For everyone, different events and feelings lead to a separate reality for all, one's revulsion will always be another's pleasures. Sentience How grand a thing it would be,