Poems

in writing •  6 years ago  (edited)

Mirror
From inside a bird’s sockets
This object
Meaningful and important
Now lifeless and still
Fit into the round plastic containers

As it lay regretful on your palm
As you look into its blank stare
A stare of sorrow
A stare of passion
A stare of bitterness

Reflections of oneself
Shows empathy
Opposing the loneliness
Of the mirror

Bitter, Sorrow, Lifeless, Depressed, Empty

Bicycle wheel

A black bicycle wheel stuck to a white stool
Might have the possibility to be used as a tool
But a rather peculiar tool to be used at this time
There is no use for the poet writing this rhyme
As there is no unicycle skills that he knows
He certainly has none that he’s willing to show
The wheel itself is without peculiarity of any sort
A black rubber lining with a steel rod for support
A bicycle wheel cut from its body made from steel
A metal circle to connect the rod with the wheel
The white stool is of birch wood by the look
Good, if in bed, for placing cups or textbooks
A quadruped with legs that connect to each other
Sticking into the bottom a round and white cover
But when put together with the wheel on the top
It’s as crazy as a three-eyed cyclops
As hard as steel and wood
As weird as Mr.Bean’s neighborhood
Two of earth’s most familiar things
Squashed together as one making a new feeling
In the viewer’s mind of course
It is someone who fell off a horse
Who had severe brain damage and made a weird mess
Which I had made a confrontation with, hence
Showing you this picture and writing a poem of it
And read by me to you bit by bit
About this weird structure of a wheel and stool
That undoubtedly is peculiar and cool

Dark

You were my first expansion
My universe exploded
In the misty black of yours
Unraveling the mysteries
Yet masking them up again

But exploding often leads to misery
Too much wonder is hard to control
I started to ponder too much
Began wondering what’s behind you
Beyond the calm and soothing black

It is peculiar in that way
That all of earth
Could be hidden underneath you
Who am I to judge
I am obscured by you

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