Tag: verse

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Need That I Mention

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Write words,
sing songs,
pen sonnets,
live long.

The rest,
is perilous,
filled with dread,
that’s vacuous.

Shallow in mind?
Broaden the spirit,
seek the sky,
learn to live within it

Reach for the stars,
jump for the moon.
Rocket to Venus,
or Mars’ subway’s a boon.

Depth-less black,
of countless dimensions,
I live in them all,
need that I mention?

Earth’s no bore,
but neither’s the sky,
two ladies forever,
bound to comply,

with the whims of a universe,
I wish I could convey,
How grand it would be
if on Earth we didn’t stay.

But such is our nature,
that we must remember,
to take things a step at a time,
lest ourselves and our dreams we endanger.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Metamorphosis

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Metamorphosis is a change,
one of greater range,
than shifted perspective or minor amendment.

It is the growth of one,
whom once graced by the sun,
finds peace in themselves and their surroundings.

It is the molting,
of a deep inner soul-thing,
and not to be taken without its grains of salt.

Ne’er to be avoided,
but reaped and rewarded,
is one with patience and agility.

When at last,
no longer the past,
plots and paths the future’s course,

Then Metamorphosis,
hath formed unbeatable forces,
of mind and heart and body.

Once cocooned,
those that it’s roomed,
fear reprisal and grace.

But on the other side,
flows a great tide,
that welcomes all with willing arms.

Fear not,
the change that you’ve got,
for it is nothing more,
than a metamorphosis,
soul-fire, that’s sore,
from long being hidden.

Find peace,
in release,
of burdens and fears,
then metamorphose,
all whom oppose those,
and return to life appeased.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: A Debt To Repay

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Madness on your TV screen
looks of wrath so you scream.
Could have told you that I’d seen,
this nightmare’s no ordinary dream.

Time of man may have passed,
Our faith in ourselves lost at last,
I’ve no doubt we’ve been surpassed,
by those the furthest stars outcast.

Bombing runs and bloody nuns,
hunted beasts, corrupted priests,
I want three suns on my horizons,
or to flee from Earth’s at least.

This world was beauty, hued and bleak,
but now it is soiled, by those whom seek,
to deign an end that could never repeat,
our greatest achievements, in power’s seat.

Build a rocket, or at least a ship,
launch outward, but keep your whip,
on hand, at the ready,
to defend from the petty.

A sadness in that last assertion,
is that of one condition,
Man’s most notorious indiscretion,
to kill, or die by indecision.

So much of death I’ve spoken,
but missed the point, those I’ve awoken.
T’was ne’er to devalue life’s token,
but rather the opposite I meant you to soak in.

Life is a gift, love it’s wrapping,
death its unraveled, eponymous trapping.
You’ve only a single one that’s a-flashing
past your eyes then you’re crashing.

I’ve no more to say, ‘cept on this very day,
stop for a moment, and think of the way,
of the world and life that slowly decay,
and the debt you’ve left to repay:

You owe your existence to love and the world.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Religion, Religion

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Religion religion,
you’re the neck of a pigeon
that seldom sings,
of steely decision.
Your broken wings
both brazen and bold,
tell of a story,
whose moral foretold,
that all will be glory,
lest you’re lost in the cold.

Religion religion,
If I had my way,
I’d throw you aloft,
for all the things that you say.
I’ve no doubt you’re evil,
could doubtless convey,
that religious upheaval,
is moral decay.

Religion, Religion,
Your believers of truth,
deny all the facts,
whose place seems uncouth,
in a reference outcast,
grown long in the tooth.
I hope you outlast,
your ineffable math,
cause religion’s a tool
to oppress lower-caste.

Religion Religion,
my eternal rival,
Religion Religion,
I need not your bible,
nor your prophets, nor Gods,
nor dead watchmen’s words,
for each day’s a revival,
of the Earthly absurd.

Religion, Religion,
without you I wonder,
what could we be,
if the righteous did slumber?
Religion, Religion,
My heart it does lumber,
when I think of the many,
whom you have held under.
Religion, Religion,
I’ve no more to say,
‘cept goodbye, so long,
stay out of my way.