From the mind of a mild mannered maniac

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Image

AGE


Age


life is passing, swiftly, by.

No time for, apprehensive, fools.

You’ll feel, sometimes, like asking why,

but that’s not in the rules.


Changes mock us, line and hue,

not all for good, not all so sweet.

New age values leave us blue.

We’re, fast,  becoming obsolete.



There’s value in maturity

a lifetime of moments,  of merits earned.

No not just, old age, security

but knowledge, we’ve lived, we’ve loved, we’ve learned.

Holly Molly

“An idle mind seems to make for an idle imagination, in my experience. If you want something done, entrust it to a busy person. If you want innovation ask an active thinker.” – I’m not sure who originated this line of thought, perhaps you can let me know, in the comments, but the wording came from somewhere inside my noggin ūüôā

Desperate to bump my writers slump,  I finally decided to hop in the car, and go for a ride.  I combined my errands, with a bizzare scavenger hunt. My quest? A voyage of discovery, or at the very least, inspiration. 

Maybe I should have tuned in to Chopin instead of the Country Western station, ’cause this here poem seems to be cryin’  out for a twangy guitar riff and a Hank Williams impersonator, but at least I managed to write something, right? ūüėČ

Anyway……



HOLY MOLLY.

Holy Molly, I’m over the moon!

My baby just told me she’ll be home, real soon.

There’s a jig in my step and i can’t erase,

This foolish grin, plastered, over my face.


That might seem needy, but its been a while,


We’ll be laughing it up and partying in style.

So, plan a parade, strike up the band.

I got me a ring, ‘gonna ask for her hand.


I’m no gourmet, but I rustle some eats.

Don my best rags and polish my cleats.

Halfway convinced that this aint no big deal,

I pose for the mirror and practise my spiel.


When she walks through the door though, she isn’t alone.

This dude is a, tall, swarthy, George Clooney clone.

A cousin? A brother?  I, silently,  pray!

Then she smiles and caresses her tall fiance.


©2016 РClifton J. Lewis

Winter’s Cheer

imageSwiftly fly the seasons

year upon precious year

first Spring’s rebirth,

Summer’s¬†love

then Fall’s rich palette,

and¬†Winter’s cheer

The season that blends nostalgia with a

twist of mirth and folly.

‘Tis a¬†time for frosted window panes,

for mistletoe and Holly.

Time to gather our loved ones here,

to share our joy with our near and dear!

to celebrate with festive cheer.

 

Happy holidays, folks, wherever you may be!

~CLIFFY ūüôā

 

Dismal Day

image

Dismal day,

how dare you chase my sun away.

I’m made of sterner stuff,

I’ll shine on through the grey.

I dare not let you cast a pall

on my parade.

You’re nothing but a ruse,

a game, a masquerade

Image

Lonely Road

imageDriving late, on a lonely road

Just roaming, lost and weary

I think about us, well, the used-to-be us.

and our new past, so damned dreary!

Landmarks along this grainy lane

Pass by my gaze unbidden

I can’t change the channel, can’t look away

The images won’t stay hidden.

Sign posts scream out silently

Hazzards ahead, don’t go there

I can’t turn back though, I never can.

There’s a new path out of here, somewhere.

But there never is, just our tainted past

and the hurt that won’t ever heal.

So, I’m driving late, on this lonely road,

a ghost behind the wheel.

A hint of Springtime

image
Honeysuckle, songbirds and blossoms abound signs of awakening, all around
Each balmy night and dreamy day
Is so tinged with nature’s sweetest array.
There’s a song in my soul, a warm embrace
and a dream in my heart. For the whole Human race.

With uproarious zest, I thus, declare,

there’s a hint of springtime in the air!

Letting Go

sadness

I  pine for you, my love,
Oh how I pine! 

I have known your world,  now my only world is you

I can’t hold you
yet I feel as if you’re with me
guiding me the way you used to do

Some far off day, ,
will find us reunited
Should  fate,
decree that  it  be so.

Yet in  darkest night, 

 as I mourn,  and hide in memories

letting go, is the hardest thing to do

 

 

 

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