Being an apologist means never having to say you're sorry.
‘A complete poem is one where an emotion finds the thought and the thought finds the words.’ Robert Frost
‘Rem Tene, Verbe Sequentur’ (Stick with the subject and the words will follow)
Someone said the sky was falling.
Now I know they’re right.
The stars that burned so brightly hot,
Have now turned cold and white.
They make their way, each one unique
And on the ground alight,
Accumulate and call to me “let’s have a snowball fight!”
Leafing through the pages strewn
Throughout the Autumn afternoon.
They’re rounded up and bound together.
With covers sewn for Wintry weather.
A brainstorm-front, a silver cloud.
The sounds of Spring are read aloud.
And Summer’s sun will play its part
To grow His words up from our heart.
Hearing the click of leaves that pass
Down through the branches to land on the grass.
DO you ever wonder how melodies are?
REcalling the time that we danced neath the stars.
MIx it with laughter, are you feeling the spirit?
FAr from the noise of the crowd. Can you hear it?
SOrrow is gone and the fear disappears.
LAst but not least, take the muse by the ears.
TIming yourself, step out onto the floor.
DOn’t you realize that’s what music is for?
as my thoughts turn dreams
I realize a world awaits
that’s all in my head…
His salvation free, priceless,
Yet costs everything.
The word f*** has a ring
That I think I should mention
Is real good at getting
A person’s attention.
But when using this word,
Use caution, you should.
Because often when heard,
They talk of the elephant here in the room,
When they say I’ve had too much to drink.
They flatly insist that it’s something I’ve missed.
But I see it right there and it’s pink!
Saw the universe.
Swirling around in my cup…
I stirred, it was gone.
Elide the “i”, would Apple die?
With all the Pads and Pods bereft,
And to its own devices left,
Ive would have to lend his letter,
To make it better.
A parakeet and a marmoset
Stood atop a parapet.
A pair of pets, they made a bet
To see how far from their cage they’d get.
Elide the “L”, the “I”, the “D”.
Now kern the “3″ and make a “B”.
This is how the first typesetters
Pared the words that made the letters.
An artificial edifice.
A hollow mountain’s face.
A surreptitious precipice
That hides a secret place.
Owed to the Sea of Ingenuity
There is a crater on the moon,
(The one affecting all the tide)
Whose shores are ripe with bright ideas,
No H2O at all inside.
A Sea of Ingenuity,
On the dark side of the lunar face.
Of cleverness and imagination.
Staring longingly to space.
See, darkness isn’t all that bad,
When anchored as a satellite.
The sun at your back each and every day.
The earth, your audience by night.