Tag: Poetry

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Ain’t Life Grand?

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Electric light.
Supersonic flight.
Pitch-black night.
Heart-attack fright.

Let ink flow.
Be in-the-know.
Take it fast or slow.
Leave room to grow.

Waste time on the mundane.
Be less the sane.
Walk with a gilded cane.
Make love, naked in rain.

Forget the present.
Live in the moment.
The past’s atonement,
assures future proponent.

Usher in good things.
Ensure your inner-darkness rings.
Learn what freedom brings,
Often spread your wings.

Pick your poison,
with some poise, son.
Turn the noise on,
and be the loud one.

Whatever you choose–
play to win or lose,
or to beat the blues,
just keep an eye off the news.

This world is ours.
We are its powers.
Making waves so history sours,
with our faces carved in marble towers–

Above the land.
Atop the sand.
Together we stand.
Ain’t life grand?

Poetry-Thing Thursday: To Show

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Sycophantic psycho cat,
stepping up to the bat,
beats her cleats upon the mat,
to ready up her brilliant stat,
and lift the corner of her hat,
while the umpire and the catcher, fat,
are wishing they’d instead sat.

After the game she’ll go to see,
visions of eternity,
in raving drug and booze party,
where perhaps she’ll meet me,
for some psychedelic tea,
that will force us into memory,
and leave us stranded out at sea.

Perhaps then we’ll make a bet,
that could never be reset,
especially if we haven’t met,
or maybe she may take me yet,
her loins throbbing, pulsing wet,
and then I, she will get,
with expert-knotted, new fish-net.

Maybe we’ll win,
feel skin to skin,
as I dive in,
deep in her satin,
wet warm I pin,
she feels me within,
committing original sin.

More likely though,
we’ll never know,
what the future could sow,
were we to go,
together, en-tow,
all others hollow–
should’ve put my money to show.

Bonus Poem: As An Old Friend

~ S.M. Nolan ~ 2 Comments

Sometimes I wonder,
about rain and thunder,
snow and ice,
wheat and rice.

Then I remember,
sleek and slender,
the nature of reality,
and all that we see.

It’s but a phase of dimensions,
angled in tensions,
to form minds of oneness,
bring hope to the helpless.

Thus we remain,
forever contain,
the universe’s essence,
in our lowly presence.

And when one day
we step away,
we’ll turn to dust,
with stars we trust.

So when it comes,
total your sums,
and greet the end,
as an old friend.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Soar

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Withered and ashen gray,
curled beneath full moonlight,
the wind whispers incessant seductions,
while midnight rivers drain of blood,
and the scent of a fresh kill taints the air.

In the distance coyotes are calling.
Who or where is as equally our question as theirs.
Beneath them is the sound of even-further waves,
they crest with crescendo, their sea a symphony.

Between here and there is all reality,
but if no-one is there to witness it,
it fades.
Thus men of faith, religion,
pay homage to imagined creatures,
so that it might forever remain.

There is something to be said here of hope,
belief its benefactor, life its assassin.
So that it might meet reality, too, in the end.
But the abyss is wide,
deep,
ever growing.

Serpents’ forked tongues can sense death on the air,
like crimson blood tainting white wine.
There are no secrets to life.
No greater meaning.
There is only existence and those that exist.

Take heed this lesson.
Remember it.
For no meaning,
no purpose,
is true freedom.
We are bound by no shackles.
Soar.