Outside Looking In Taking place under the same sky a defensive edge unexpectedly sharp yellow lights of caution cause reactions within the souls of the well known signs of stress coming in fours incomplete thoughts search for a point within months of forgotten dollars the…
Category: Half Marathon Poem
Poem #10 – Poetry
Poetry Poetry brings inspiration to its reader and it gives breath to the writer and in my case, when I create – I am showered in glistening stars @ Renee Avard-Furlow June 13 2015
Two wrongs don’t make a right.
A Drifter and a traveler, were always solider of fortune, travelling on trail of time, sinking in their experiences, of burning and bruises, of marks on skin which weren’t enough to bleed, of fire which was still alive with air they breathe, seeking their way…
My last poem for the half marathon–THE TWELVE HOURS
THE TWELVE HOURS When at the eleventh hour, The final whistle travels by the air. The workaholics stand to the podium! The podium becomes a pinnacle For the survivors Once my eyes stuck on the screen As I laid beside the rippling river to the…
(#12/12): “Last Words”
A mind obtuse. My verses bemuse. Information I peruse. No inspiration from my muse. She is amused. “Can’t you deduce?” “This is where I leave you.” © 2015 Silvester Phua
(#11/12): “It Ain’t What It Used To Be”
Stone by stone, brick by brick, Block after block, Heritage erodes, it’s all history. Soaring soulless skyscrapers, Shopping malls in gleaming glass, Our living Stepfordian nightmare. Where will it end? This pursuit of a tenuous future. Progress is such an abused…
Coffee
You are my favorite food group. Thank you for your brewing, brooding ways, your dark deep stirrings, your faithful dry roasted boost. No matter how many lumps I take, no matter how low the day goes, there is always a mermaid mug of Joe….
Convergence of Time
(Frosted by Robert’s words) Older now, and tired. I just want to take the quiet road. **hour 13, written off-site and posting late**
Careful: Contents May Have Shifted
(a haibun) My mama always said there are no good moves. Something always gets lost. Something always gets broken. Some last minute much-needed kitchen item winds up in a box marked Bathroom. There isn’t enough packing tape in all the universe for all of…
(#10/12): “What’s Missing?”
On a hot day, Somnambulant in my study, My tutor put my skills on trial. A vocabulary throwdown, if you will. Go for it, this shy pupil was told. What’s most common? No way! “You can’t possibly know till you try, my boy.”…