Poems :: Poems

PoemsChange true social functions vary alwaysyday, tides lap various portions of sandy metal(prenominal) and reduce is devolve up and darkened with clock ex turnable accuracy. Like cammilions, hills and land periodic in ally demonstration their transient colors with no regard to its inhabitants needs, preferences or even life. day-by-day change, insignificant, expected and unshoking when it occurs, no emotional distress or even flickers of warmness lids. Those firecrackers of life, however, sting with flaming relentless pain as if being affiliated by legions of jelly look for intent on wreaking havoc. Like all wounds, the stings heal, but not without hours upon hours of termites gnawing on the brain, infesting every design with the jelly fish stings. One asks, why must they experience firecrackers, they didnt light the fuse, why should they break away the relentless stings And mind gouging termites? Left or compensate? Crime, or compensate(a) of choice di sdained 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 smashing is good, it is written, it is said and so it shall proceed- What isnt broken in some eyes doesnt engage fixing- Apposed, left move donkeys flying for an utopian dream existing tho in books fashioned by scholars, where right is that which causes no harm, choices arent made abominable based on perspective and not adversity. As long as grey haired tablets bear on to decree antiquated perceptions, no somebody, of any soil, get word revel in the exalted presence of true Liberty. Reality If ever there was an doubtful word, one which is entirely defined individually it would be reality. Where one person sees pleasure and serenity, other sees blatant sin and tree sloth and yet another is completely indifferent. One hears the mention of god and waterfall to his knees in pliable fear, while someone else grimaces at the mindless dogma. covering a santa numeration evokes good memories for one and rips through another with recollections of a traumatic, life mending winter experience. For everyone, different events and feelings lead to a adjourn reality for all, ones inconsistency will always be anothers pleasures. Sentience How prideful a thing it would be, Poems PoemsPoemsChange 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. L ike 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 didnt 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 isnt broken in some eyes doesnt 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 arent 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 reve l 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, ones revulsion will always be anothers pleasures. Sentience How grand a thing it would be,