Posts
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A Story Whirls Into View
My feet spin my bike pedals,
Pushing me along the trail
As stories invade my focus.
My mind swirls,
Colors whirl,
As ideas emerge from the flurry.
Names fill my head,
Plots come into view,
Places teleport into my thoughts. -
A Capability of Beauty
The warm, salty waves wash away,
Swirling patterns in the sand,
Sending crabs and clams
Burrowing into the rock grains.
The waves churn the sand,
Uncovering, leaving behind,
Delivering small,
Delicate treasures: -
A Glowing Aura of Relaxation
The sun dips behind the mountains,
Only some of the light shines,
A peachy aura emerging.
The whispy clouds hover gracefully,
Letting themselves drift with the wind,
The peace settling into the mist,
Refracting the glow, -
Appreciating Where Flowers Will Emerge
I trace my fingers across the grass,
the little green shards,
the silky plants tickling my skin.
It has survived the winter,
the dry brown it had become
slowly disappearing,
turning rich green from the sun. -
Getting Where I Want to Go
My sneakers hit the pavement,
The constant sound of the thwapping filling the nipping,
Early spring air.
My breath comes slow but heavy,
Before being like a soft summer breeze,
Now like a strong wind, -
An Interacting Community of Light
I stare out the plane window,
gazing at the illuminated buildings.
The clusters of orange and yellow lights,
forming the shapes of roads,
streets, and homes.
They spread out like a map,
inky darkness showing the desolate areas,
Loves
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Not Just a Screen
You say we are ‘lazy’, ‘soft’, ‘don’t care’, ‘ungrateful’. You don’t see the hours we spend
Studying late, memorizing formulas, writing essays, solving problems,
Trying to be everything you expect us to be. -
The West Wind
The West Wind is a banker in a smart navy suit and a tie. His dress shoes clack on the pavement; he’s got someplace to be, always someplace to be, rushing to the sidewalk, the subway, the elevator, checking his gold Rolex watch.
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bumblebee
// bumblebee//honeybee//honey//sweet as nectar//you are beautiful//in every way//
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a letter from ninestars to my friends
I come here to
express myself
semi-anonymously,
but freely
and happily.
My laptop is
bombarded with
tabs, one of which
is YWP.
Always.
I may not
write a poem
