Yearly Archives: 2015

The Door

The roof stands above us, the walls stand beside. The Door stands before us; looking out and in. Hear the knock of sins within. Some one does have the key. Who we are and what becomes are housed in disbelief.

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The Key

To open wide or close inside,               is what a door is for.                              To knock or lock depends a lot,

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Earth’s Haiku

The Earth keeps turning People live here day by day Hang on tight, ok? ~ The globe slowly spins Time is relative they say, Go ask your Uncle. ~ It’s Monday again Sunrise comes but once a day Following the

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To Write or Not to Write?

To write or not to write?… Could that be a question? To write is… To express a way of looking at the world. To write is… To share your own point of view. To write is… To give a piece

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Move a’head

Quite often… “In order to move a’head, you need to move a’foot. To know what’s best and what’s a’should, when a’do is better than a’would.” ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK (inspired by a’nother daydream)

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Swimsuit Santa

Merry Christmas!  It has been such a very unusually warm Christmas day here in Baltimore, Maryland; USA. No snow, wherever you go.  It seems like this is the way the weather has been all around the world this year. Wishing everyone

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If Only You Ask

From all directions and points of view, I hear a voice calling and drawing me too. I find courage, I find a source, I dare to run another course. Maybe because of inner tears, I dare of wonder, I care

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? = Happiness

I’VE GOT IT! The formula for ‘Happiness’ is: [(g + d¹) × (e + d²)] – (d³ + f¹) = (r + s ÷ P) >/= (f² ÷ P) × Today Where: g  = goals d¹ = desires e  =

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I dreamed I was

I dreamed I was flying. Over hills and valleys. Rising above. My spirit soared. I dreamed I was climbing. Reaching for cliffs. Seeking a summit. Against infinite gravity. I dreamed I was dying. Swirling tube of grayness inclined. Lightness casts

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Posted in Dreams, Poe'ems, Vivid & Lucid experiences

Crumbs of Expression

crumbs of expression  tossed along my narrowing paths. gobbled up like stale croutons fed to birds. birds burping on crusts dive off into their own wind. give me a caw, caw or as much as a chirp. on your way

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She had Cabriole Legs

Mrs. Chippendale stood with an elegantly dominant feminine stature. She was furnished as a chairperson and Cabinet Secretary for the British Cabinet since the Queen Anne period of the early 18th century. Her classic style became the essential pattern for

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Take Time Today

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Sweet & Sour Dreaming

This restless mind takes flight. My slumbering fortune has been told. Print of blue on paper of white. Awakened with subconscious scheming. Consumed with a dim sum of meanings. A quart or pint? These thoughts alone, I unfold. Pork fried

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Fitting Together Perfectly

~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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Never Meaning to Send

♪♪♪ “Letters I’ve written, Never meaning to send. Beauty I’d always missed With these eyes before, Just what the truth is I can’t say anymore.” … ♪♪♪ ~~~ I can recall many letters I’ve written, never meaning to send… I

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Memories of Us

Memories of us and the walks we made. Hands held together as we forgave. Shadows had fallen from every tree. Stories held long within their leaves. Thoughts of times we often shared. Whom else I’d consider? I hadn’t dared. Heads

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An Inspiration Anticipation Alliteration

Pen and paper, patiently poised… pending penning of potential poetic publications; pertaining to periodic perking of perceptive prose and purposes. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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An Origami Kind of Love

It was an Origami kind of love. All folds and creases. In all the right places. We were two sheets of paper held together in a honorable pattern of texture, forms and color. The makers’ hands created our shapes as

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Ode on a Grecian ‘Earn’

Thou ravaged bride of quieted schemes, Thou loathsome child born of troubled times seen. Hence forth into turmoils, anguish and woe, For many years now your economy slows. What dubious notions have you foreseen? The lackluster trades?, A minus GDP?

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What is Love?

What is love? We all must say. Just a chosen word? Or a promised way. What is love? If not forever. It comes to us. For worse or for better. What is love? The poets have written. Rhymes without reason.

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A Shot in the Dark

‘A Shot in the Dark’ BANG! … As the screen door slapped shut. It was a moonlit night. Not a full moon, a pale slice of pewter. Looking down at us. No one was around to be a witness. Warm

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Her name was Mary

Her name was Mary. Mary would carry baskets of blossoms and blooms she had picked that day from meadows touched with a morning dew. As the sun would set, she’d pin a red rose upon her chest. Her daily tour

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Into the clouds of our yesterday’s

Up and away it goes. Tethered to more than just a string. Extending the heights of youthful fun, soaring along the unmarked course of a child’s imagination. Let’s go fly a kite. Into the clouds of our yesterday’s. Hold on

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The long talk

The long talk. My wife and I, and so many couples that I discover have had at the very beginning or soon into their relationship had come to each other and stay together; I have found, to have the legacy

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Posted in Daydreams

Tick tock… turn back the clocks!

Tick tock… Time to turn time BACKWARDS! Commence calibrating clocks and cuckoos consecutively counter-clockwise. Caution! Could cause considerable consternation; choreographed care of cosmically-computed chronographs keeping chronological clocks conclusively clicking… Causing cross-country commenting and commotion… Consider copious cups of coffee? Grab

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Mother Earth’s Daily Desire

Daylight comes, revealing the night’s slumber. Musky dew glistens in the valley below us. Eggs with sausage; morning’s daily hunger. Rise up, as your crops await their fertile moment. My strong hands will tend to plow once again. Plunging inside

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Dreams. Zzz…

Dreams.              l       r              e      a           perception              p      i    

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Freedom is?

Freedom is? Freedom isn’t free. Freedom’s cheers are founded from foolish fights formed from our forefather’s fears. Freedom isn’t fair. Freedom is? Faith. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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Parquet

Floor smooth as butter. Was the hardwood newly waxed? No, it is parquet. ~ an EWK Haiku Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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Poetry is a Building

If I could write to build you a landmark; I would write you a poem. Made of brick, and steel and stones. Something proud and tall, on the corner of your life. So that you may enter and see my

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a ball is dropped…

A gravitationally inspired EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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To Breathe, To Sleep, To Dream ~ (#2 of 3)

4-7-8 relaxing breath method to quick sleep… There is an effective way to naturally regulate and rebalance your breathing rate, heart rate and eventually persuade your conscious mind rate to a swift relaxation. Try this: Close your eyes. Breathe as

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A leaf has fallen…

A leaf has fallen… Crisp winds of autumn arrive. Time to find my rake. ~ an EWK Haiku Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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Poetry is Sculpture

Words carry a weight, have a shape, enclose a volume of visual/emotional substance and produce a gravitational balance of complex maneuvers when skillfully formed within poetic verse. WEAVE words • REVEAL rhymes Expressive poetry evolves the direction of rhyming paths,

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If… you are my Sunshine

If… you are my Sunshine. I must be your Moonshine. I love you ‘still’. Prohibition has been repealed. Let’s get drunk in our love. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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Dare to dream: Learn to be lucid.

It has been said that “Life is but a dream”… “… The cloud-capp’d tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack

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Posted in Dreams, Vivid & Lucid experiences

Love is not rocket science

It was a space rocket kind of love… Rockets at the ready. Off I go from here and beyond. Should I worry if you ever respond? Life for me, becomes this discovery. Searching for where my hopes are bound. The

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Proclamation to Politicians

Politicians, People are perturbed pertaining partisan political policies plundering privacy, personal potentials, patients and pensions. Political positioning ploys produce panic in the populace. Perseverance, plus perpetual patience is preferably prescribed? Perhaps, pray persistently?                             

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Life is a bridge

Life is a bridge we all must cross on our own time and with our own effort. Our lives are built from a foundation of memories, a framework of consciousness, and a span of goals and desires. ~ an EWK

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Stuff

So much stuff so little time so many dreams . . . yet to build from plans undone and . . . yet unseen. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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My Story

The path of an eye. A flick of a tongue. A turn of a phrase, And so it is done. Another page is written. For others to read. From my heart to theirs’, My story; to believe. ~ an EWK

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End of Summer

Laying on my back-side at the knoll of a grassy hilltop. The sunlight streams at lowly shadowing angles from just above my ever-so-old, slate roofed, clapboard homestead farmhouse that sits along the timber-railed fence. This fence was built by my

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Posted in Daydreams

Morning has broken

Morning has broken. Sunlight is revealing. Our thoughts unspoken. Nighttime has fallen. Darkness is concealing. Our feelings are withheld. Seasons have changed. Summertime runs cold to winter’s dim light. Our love is refrained. Drives me insane. How us? Oh, why?

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Run silent… Run deep…

Run silent… Run deep… Miss the ground beneath your feet? Under and below fathoms far, far away… What does your periscope show you today? It matters so little if your eyes are asleep. Blow off your ballast and breathe in

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Your next step

The presence of windows The absence of doors The floor is waiting For your next step. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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A Grandfather’s Hug: the reunion of a dream

I had many vivid dreams again last night. In particular; I had one dream where I was able to give my Grandfather a hug, and with this hug came one last good bye. He had died over 10 years ago.

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Love is a letter

Love is a letter written in your heart. Age is a number written in your blood. Faith is a code written in your soul. Life is a story written till you’re cold. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2015 EWK

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What is alliteration poetry?

Q: What is alliteration poetry? & A: Alliteration poetry is the repetition of the same sound or letter at the beginning of each or most of the words in a sentence. The easiest way to use alliteration would be to

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Crumbs of Expression

crumbs of expression tossed along my narrowing paths. gobbled up like stale croutons fed to birds. birds burping on crusts dive off into their own wind. give me a caw, caw or as much as a chirp. on your way

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Posted in Poe'ems
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