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    My Kinda Poetry 2


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    My Kinda Poetry 2

      Copyright 2015 by Marvin K. Perkins

      My Kinda Poetry

      My kinda poetry has a cutting edge,

      an intrinsic beauty and unmistakable

      style that sticks to the brain like glue.

      So unique are the words that rest in the mind,

      you can't forget them even if you try.

      Sometimes raw and unpolished,

      floating from pen to paper,

      sweet as honey and smooth as silk.

      My kinda poetry is a timeless thing,

      that tells the stories of you and me.

      Jagged as ice, bright like a diamond,

      shinning like a lighthouse in the sea.

      They are poetic gems found like

      pebbles on the sands of my life.

      They speak of love, joy, fact, fiction,

      depression and inspiration.

      Stories of romance and tragedy,

      war and peace and father and motherhood.

      They are a slice of me for the

      world to see, for now and forever.

      White Dove

      White dove spread your wings and

      fly, send your message of peace

      throughout our troubled world.

      Hope go with you in your sojourn,

      love and brotherhood sustain you

      in your long and perilous journey.

      Soar high above in winged flight,

      may God go with you in your quest

      to find some sanity, somewhere.

      I just pray it is not too late.

      A Child Again

      Hard to believe I was ever so small,

      I thought of a young child I watched

      Joyfully at play.

      I was ever so trusting, so happy

      And alive, so carefree, so unencumbered by the cares of

      The grown-up world.

      I marveled at his youthful exuberance

      Almost with envy and jealousy in my

      Heart that I was I longer so.

      I thought about my joints that ached

      and my movements that were slow,

      My hair so white like gray peppered snow.

      But then I thought about all the good

      Times in my life, my children and my

      Wife, and I smiled.

      And I hoped and wished that child

      Would have as good a life as mine

      Has been.

      I didn't think anymore that day or

      For a long while about being a child again.

      The Flower

      I saw a flower in a field

      of weeds and marveled

      at its beauty and simplicity.

      It blew slightly in the breeze,

      so carefree and natural

      not aware of my presence.

      It put on a show in that field

      to rival any pageantry man

      could devise, trying only to

      emulate something that the

      humble flower does so naturally.

      Lullaby

      Rock-a-bye, she sang me a lullaby,

      My mother by my bed when I was a

      Child.

      Her song was sweet, her touch so

      Gentle and loving, the fragrance of

      Her filled the air.

      She's been gone for many years and

      I have cried many tears, for losing

      The love she gave.

      But most of all,

      I remember the lullabies.

      You Can Call Me Poet

      The best compliment anyone can

      Give me is to call me poet.

      I guess deep down I always was one

      Even if I didn't know it.

      A poet's heart beats in my chest with

      Lines and rhymes to share.

      Even if I didn't know it was pulsing

      It was always beating there.

      Waiting to give of my soul to the

      World and keep on giving.

      Struggling to tell the tales, rhyme of

      The times, in which I was living.

      Yes you can call me poet,

      I accept proudly that moniker anytime.

      'Cause I can't think of any title

      That is so profoundly sublime.

      We Were Given

      We were given the sunshine

      and the rain, the moon and

      the stars and the sun.

      We were given the privilege

      of living and making the right

      choices for how we live that life.

      We were given food and drink

      and air to breathe and a beautiful

      world of wondrous creations.

      We were given all we need and

      more by a selfless Creator that

      asks only for our love and devotion.

      We were given all these things but

      we can't just take, we must also

      give back to our world in return.

      Butterfly

      My metamorphosis is almost

      complete but I am not quite a

      butterfly.

      My wings have started to sprout

      but I cannot yet take to flight.

      I feel the strength coming from

      way deep in my soul.

      I cannot, no I will not be defeated.

      I will fulfill my destiny in life.

      I will achieve my dreams,

      my enemies and fears conquered.

      Because someday I know in my

      heart I will be that butterfly.

      And I will fly.

      I will soar...

      Child

      Child be a child, you'll have

      a lifetime for grown up things.

      The world awaits, but let it wait

      a little longer while you play.

      Do not be in any hurry to enter

      that place of stress and worry.

      Play with your dolls and teddy

      bears, safe in your realm without

      a care, and enjoy all the fun.

      Go to the games and to the prom,

      do family things with dad and mom.

      Enjoy and savor every moment

      that childhood brings, because

      soon enough the grown up world

      will be your reality.

      Autumn

      An autumn morning envelopes me

      with unexpected delight.

      The chill in the air, the rustic colors

      are everywhere in sight.

      There's Football on the old TV

      and back to school shopping sprees .

      No white after Labor Day,

      That’s what people like to say.

      Leaves fall from the trees silently,

      walks in the park for you and me.

      It is our favorite season of the year.

      'Cause soon Christmas time

      will be here.

      Rise

      I will rise out of the ashes of a

      Burned out building where charred

      And blackened corpses rot.

      I will rise from the dark murky

      Depths of the sea's watery graveyard full of death's mysteries.

      I will rise from the battlefield’s

      Pain and suffering, misery beyond

      Comprehension where broken and

      Dying bodies lie.

      I will rise when everything seems lost

      And the ultimate price has been

      Paid and the cost seems impossible

      To bear.

      For I am hope and the unbeatable

      Human spirit, I cannot be defeated

      And I will...

      Rise...


      A Hippie Love Poem

      When the stars and the moon

      fall from the sky.

      We will be together, forever,

      you and I.

      I will catch the heavenly bodies

      and put them in my pocket.

      Squeeze one into a precious

      jewel and make a diamond locket.

      You can wear it around your neck

      so you will never ever forget me.

      And how much in love we are

      and have happy we'll be.

      We'll take a rocket ship far out

      into outer space.

      Just you and I will start

      a brand new human race.

      They'll be no wars, no fighting,

      no hate, just love.

      And of course the symbol of

      our new world will be the dove.

      Everyone will wear a neckless

      that bears the peace sign.

      It will be exactly just like yours

      and mine.

      And we'll all live in peace, love,

      and brotherhood.

      As long as we have each other

      and the weed is good.

      Heart

      Heart cannot be measured, it can

      be enormous, or microscopic, it can

      Be full of courage and enthusiasm,

      Or cowardice and lack of commitment.

      It can roar like a lion or be timid

      As a lamb, it does not depend on

      The size of the individual it inhabits,

      It is a force in and of itself, a mighty

      Force that will not be easily conquered.

      It is the fighter in us all,

      the burning desire to win,

      to survive, to excel

      and never give up, it is boundless

      and immeasurable, this thing we

      call heart...

      Time Slips Away

      Time can be your friend or your

      Enemy,

      Seems you always have too much

      Or too little.

      The ticking of the clock is your

      Task master,

      He can drive you forward or sometimes back,

      Other times it seems like time stands

      Absolutely still.

      You can waste it, spend it, do great

      Things or nothing with it,

      But one thing you must remember,

      Once it's gone you can never get it

      Back.

      Funny, as they say, how time slips away.

      My Window

      Through my window I watch the traffic jam and crawl,

      horns sounding loudly, shouts of anger.

      A man on a bicycle wearing a brightly

      Colored helmet and reflecting jacket

      To match, children at play on the

      Sidewalk, a mother walking a baby in

      A stroller.

      Through my window I see blue skies

      Mixed with gray clouds threatening

      Rain, an old man with a cane,

      walking slowly as a world in a hurry passes

      Him by, a dog scavenging for a bite

      To eat, a young lady in tights out for

      Her morning run, looking pleased

      With herself.

      The world is outside my window but

      I am content to sit and watch it pass

      By, I am a part of it and it is a part of

      Me as I watch it and they watch me

      From the other side of my window,

      Wondering why I only sit and watch.

      A Silent Prayer

      A mother held her newborn

      infant in her arms, still

      marveling at the miracle

      of birth.

      A beautiful child lie on her

      heaving chest, breathing a

      breath she had given to him.

      She thought about how tiny

      and cute he was with his little

      wrinkled face and button nose.

      She held his hand in hers and

      gave a gentle caress, he held her

      finger and squeezed with all his might.

      She was reminded how precious

      life was and how cruel it can be,

      and said a silent prayer for him

      as she nodded off to sleep.

      Father Time

      Mirror you are a liar, your

      reflection altered by the light.

      A refraction of a moonbeam

      that transcended from the night.

      A ghostly apparition that appears

      almost translucent and unreal.

      Sent from darkness to reality

      wishing my mortal soul to steal.

      Who is he that stares back at me

      unrecognizable to these blind eyes?

      An old remnant of a self that I do

      not know or ever wish in life to be.

      Father Time is never kind but

      his judgment is final.

      So accept his verdict as the truth

      and don't live your life in denial.

      I Call it Hell

      It is such a sad thing for a

      father to bury his only son.

      A young man's life snuffed

      out before it had even begun.

      Another casualty of another

      endless and senseless war.

      With no purpose or reason

      why or what the killing was for.

      And as the father paid his

      final respects to his boy,

      he thought of all good times his

      son would never be able to enjoy.

      He would never marry and

      know the love of his life.

      That special girl that would

      someday become his wife.

      See his own children grow

      up and their children as well

      All because of this terrible

      thing called war, but I call it hell.

      Lessons

      Let not your pride be vanity,

      for humbleness of character

      is a more important attribute.

      Be self-confident but not

      boastful, be self- assured but do not

      speak too highly of yourself.

      A man who spends most of his

      time tutting his own horn will not

      hear the sound of others music.

      Let your words be humble and meek as a lamb.

      But let your deeds be mighty and strong and roar like lion.

      Take pride in your work and give

      respect to those who give respect.

      These are lessons a wise and prudent person should learn.

      Footprints

      I walk along that peaceful stream I knew so well but had long forgotten,

      leaving footprints in newly fallen snow.

      I see my breath white hot in the frigid morning air,

      I stop to reflect a while, the sky dark and gray with billowing clouds.

      Remembering back to my youth , those happy carefree days,

      when me and my father used to fish in the crystal clear water.

      Those were simpler times when the world had made sense,

      before it had spun out of control, I sure miss them now.

      My dad and me against the world, I thought it would always be that way,

      but things have a way of changing.

      Dad got old and passed away, I no longer had time for fishing and such things,

      ‘cause life got in my way.

      And now all I have left is fond memories of a life that used to be and footprints in newly fallen snow.

      The Sport's Nut

      The sport's nut is all about the games,

      the score, the stats, the player's names.

      The point spread, who won, who lost,

      the price of admission, no ma
    tter the cost.

      He'll go anywhere and spend his last hard earned dime,

      just to be there at the finish line.

      To cheer and wave from the sidelines or his seat,

      he doesn't care how his team wins even if they cheat.

      The game is his life and his life is a game,

      how do you think he got his name?

      The sport's nut...

      The Watchers

      They say there are watchdogs who

      watch over what needs to be

      watched, but who watches over the

      watchdogs who are doing the watching?

      And who decided what or who needs

      to be watched and who is it that the

      watchers are watching for?

      What power or authority do they have to have the audacity to think

      they have the right to decide who is

      watched and who is not.

      I think we had better watch those

      who have the watchers watching us.

      They are the real ones in need of watching.

      Hope

      Hope you mean all things to me,

      everything that is or will ever be,

      without you there is nothing.

      Will I breathe the morning air

      when I wake and see a new day,

      it is not given to me.

      Will my heart beat pumping life

      giving blood through my veins

      I must certainly hope.

      You make my chest swell with

     


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