Free Verse Poetry:
A poem about the American dream and how working towards it really doesn't matter in light of eternity.
Is it ever so longing? Is it ever so longing the care about the future? What it brings to us, and what it has to hold. Why waste our time and energy into something of little value when there's more to life than work. So many people, so many problems just a disarray of energy built into one set of things. I never could fathom the pride of an antidote or the whisper of the morning sun. Gloom and doom day, night and skies of gray -the shadows are beckoning my arrival to there utter dark paths. I will not give in for I am victorious! A winner in this game of fluff and puff. Stuff seems to get to me to easily a heart of cream blaring loudly over streams of white noise. My head is no longer viewing this dynamic why? It is because I am now viewing it with my heart's eyes. -Tina
Dip To Trip
A descriptive poem about it raining in a cemetery.
Drip, drip, drip from the crypt crypt crypt by the crop, crop crop. It goes on and on and on, and then it stops, stops stops. Drip, drip, drip, drip -stop. -Tina
A descriptive poem about how birds like to make their homes on rooftops, and appear unafraid sometimes of where they choose to dwell, even if that means danger.
Billows of smoke rising from the rusty urban buildings. Tall and wide are they. The birds make their homes on the corners and on the edges of this hidden getaway. A paradise for the birds a nuisance for the people. The workers try hard to put an end to this with there large towers of sharp destruction. It is no match for the birds, they will make their home anywhere and are unafraid of the everywhere. Even to the point of death. -Tina