Tag: Imagination

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Last Page Requiem

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

One last page on which to pen my thoughts.
One final word to be had.
A single series of lines,
letters, and words to be written,
before yet another clean slate.

I must reflect,
on what has come since,
the first of my ink touched these pages,
and there I find myself now.

Time and dedication;
the soul of all great things.
The sum of man’s endeavors,
can be found to contain these.

Am I any different?
Might any of us be?
After all we,
as me,
are Human.
Our muse, imagination,
our benefactor, perspiration.

The total of sweat, blood, tears,
is the product of divinity–
not the kind of myths,
nor Gods or deities,
instead that of hope and passion,
the welled ink of creation.

So on this last page, a requiem,
for all that’s come and gone,
in order to depart from the past,
and continue on into an even greater future.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Keep On My Way

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Keys clack tales,
over the smell of black coffee.
Hands off the rails,
and mind rich like fresh toffee.

Worlds and cities.
Men and women.
All written as ditties,
from others once given.

The only time the keys ever stop,
are to light a smoke, swish coffee, or punch the clock.
Leaving me most days at the top,
but some others, weighted, beneath the dock.

Though I want no sympathy,
I must admit,
that when without empathy,
I often think to quit.

For life is short,
and death far too long,
to waste in the court,
of a lost lover’s song.

But something keeps me calling,
back on my muse,
and whether flying or falling,
I’m paying my dues.

Whether bound to in blood,
or by some sense of duty,
pages and pages I’ll flood,
whether with horror or beauty.

But I must reiterate,
that I’ve come close to starving,
hoping to instill,
mental or emotional carvings.

Without readers and others near me,
to keep me afloat,
I would drown in the sea,
of a success-surrounding moat.

For now I’ll just say,
that no matter the biting,
I’ll keep on my way,
and continue writing.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Imagination

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Imagination

 

Limitless possibilities,

Lore and myth, religion,

Ever-expanding realities,

All imagination.

 

Have you dreamed colors that do not exist?

And are you uncertain of that lunar eclipse?

Can you think of a good, midnight twist?

Does your mind ever draw a single ellipse?

 

Is there a creature, a character or little miss priss?

Are they raving or looting or feeling love’s first kiss?

And what of your dashing protagonist?

Does he cry out in pain, or march through the mist?

 

Battles and Wars, science-fiction,

these are the fruits of imagination.

Terror and horrors, and grotesque lim-er-icks,

all at the mercy of unkind critics.

 

Is it their mother or father’s mishap

that led your M-C into all that claptrap?

Or is it a quick emanation of craft,

something you cooked up, to bore or to shaft?

 

A dream, and a screen, and a few words obscene

A satirical note for life’s lamentation,

Women preen with white cream in a deadly latrine

The signs of life in imagination.

 

A clock, and a tower, or a friendly courtyard

a tock without power, sent by a bard,

a Cock ne’er cower, when stripped of its lard,

and will not hock nor sour a stolen key-card.

 

And if you should find yourself at a wall,

a book from the shelf to you will call.

With open mind, read the page and stand tall,

for imagination will no longer stall.

 

Worlds and worlds on paper you’ll write,

this I have mentioned, it’s one way to fight,

the stagnation of a man, whom has no part,

but to play to the crowd through his only art.

 

Be it pictures, of photo or ink in your sight,

or something more, it shall be your right,

to poke and to prod ’til a new creation

spews from the well-spring of imagination.

 

Belabored or bred or trained through the night

All you need do is keep your aim tight,

sights on the sun or the sea, or mountains

imagine them all, and a few thousand more tons.

 

When hope springs eternal just look to the trees,

submerse yourself in determination.

To keep yourself afloat in rough seas,

keep your mind on imagination.

 

For hours and hours one could go on,

‘specially ’bout the prodigal fawn

but for now I believe we’re on the same page,

our hearts and brains, imagination? No cage.