Wearing cape and cowl
Gotham City’s protector
It is “The Batman”
Tag: Poetry
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Haiku – Solitude IV
At home with my wife
Each on one side of the couch
The T.V. is on
If you’ve been reading the last three Solitude poems you will notice they were beach related. I wrote those before I got married.
The Haiku above is a current version of my Solitude. The beach is still my place to go, but since I got married. I have discovered new ways to take my mind away, other than just running to the beach.
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Poem – On The Beach
The palm trees blow easy behind me,
yellow sand shifts between my toes.
Standing in the shallow surf on an island,
a quiet little place nobody knows.
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Poem – Solitude III
The palms trees blow with the island breeze,
life moves by at an easy pace.
I’m just a castaway on a small tiny island,
far removed from the rat and the race.
I prop myself against a palm tree,
and crack open a frosty cold beer.
I then let the island life take over,
as I’m lead into a world without fear.
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Poem – Solitude II
Free as the white gull,
flying in the blue above.
Feeling the quite lull,
with an open and simple kind of love.
Within this secret place,
there is tranquility and peace,
providing a perfect gentle line,
from a world of violence,
that will never cease.
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Poem – Solitude
Sitting alone on a forgotten beach, watching the waves crest the shore.
His feet they nearly reach, as he sits upon the sandy floor.
He listens to the palms, conversing on the warm salty air.
They seem to whisper on the warm gentle breeze,
as the day wanders on without a care.
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Poem – The Gout
I’ve been under a massive gout attack the last few days that is finally starting to subside so I thought what better way to get some frustration out than to write a poem about it. Anybody out there suffer with this? It stinks, right? Throw some stories my way if you feel like venting about it. We can share this pain together.
Gout, a 1799 caricature by James Gillray
Lurking in the body,
deep in the shadows of uric acid.
Hides a creature,
that isn’t so passive.
One day you are fine,
the next day you’re not.
This creature has attacked,
right on the spot.
You can fight it,
try to show it the door.
You will not win,
because this animal knows how to roar.
The best you can do,
is find a place to lay low.
Because if you can endure,
it will go away, ever so slow.
But even when its gone,
it is always there.
Hiding and lurking in the shadows,
soulless and evil, a creature without a care.
Gout (also known as podagra when it involves the big toe)[1] is a medical condition usually characterized by recurrent attacks of acute inflammatory arthritis—a red, tender, hot, swollen joint. The metatarsal-phalangeal joint at the base of the big toe is the most commonly affected (approximately 50% of cases). However, it may also present as tophi, kidney stones, or urate nephropathy. It is caused by elevated levels of uric acid in the blood which crystallizes and the crystals are deposited in joints, tendons, and surrounding tissues.
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Poem – What is Time?
Time is fleeing,
floating so quickly away,
it would be nice to freeze one day,
one day for a stay.
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Why do we try to keep it?
Like an animal in a cage,
for time needs to run free,
time needs to be.
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I wish I could be a thief,
and get back the moments of wasted time.
For if I could.
Would that be such a crime?
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Who wouldn’t want?
Just a few extra hours,
to get back at that monster,
that monster that towers.
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Yes time can flee,
so easily,
it can pass,
in the blink,
of an eye,
but we live for it,
we harness it,
we make it our own.
For to be without it,
that is something few,
few, have ever known.
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Poem – The Writer’s Role
Dreams are flying,
they are in the mail today.
What will tomorrow hold?
What will tomorrow say?
We as writers,
struggle and need,
with desires and hopes,
looking to be freed.
To pursue our passions,
what makes us whole,
yes, we give a lot of ourselves,
to have The Writer’s Role.
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Poem – The Runner
I just closed down my running blog because I’m trying to consolidate some things. Four blogs was too much so I got it down to three. Here’s a poem some of you might have seen in that running blog. If you haven’t I hope you enjoy reading it.
Stretch.
Slide on your shoes.
Step out the door.
Start out slow.
Feel the burn.
Your legs are tight.
Push on.
The miles start to click.
Faster your heart.
Beating, racing, panting.
The miles clicking away.
No pain, no gain.
Feeling the heat.
The burn.
Feeling great.
The miles are done.
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Poem – Mother’s Day
How to describe a mom,
well,
it may be too hard to do,
without leaving out,
too many things,
that are true.
For a mom is a blessing,
a true gift from God,
her patience and virtue,
is something,
you could never prod?
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Poem – Honeysuckle
When I run,
I love to smell,
Honeysuckle.
I love to see,
it hanging,
from the vines.
I love to see,
it blooming white.
I love to taste,
its nectar,
growing wild.
Yes,
I love the Spring,
the warm weather,
and
Honeysuckle.
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Poem – The Poet Man
I had no idea,
April was poetry month,
I tried to latch on at the end,
with day to day posts,
through WordPress I did send.
Now my posts will get more random,
not so much day to day,
so I won’t bombard you,
or run out of things to say.
It’s tough trying to post everyday,
thumbs up to you who can,
but I just need a break,
so I can continue being,
The Poet Man.
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Poems – In A Tropical Mood
Nestled In The Tropics
Nestled in the tropics,
a little borrowed piece of sand,
a place full of endless margaritas,
listening to a calypso band.
A warm breeze off the ocean,
quickly drying the sweat upon my head,
mixing with the friendly locals,
talking to a woman dressed in red.
A familiar song comes out of the band,
a Jimmy Buffett kind of feel,
set against the atmosphere of palms,
with time the only thing to kill.
Senoritas
On my boat,
out at sea,
nothing but love,
all for me.
I feel the waves,
crashing around,
I feel my boat,
on water’s ground.
Life at ease,
all for me,
just looking for tropical bars,
where I will be.
Sitting with a cold drink,
drinking Margaritas,
propped up on a stool,
kissing senoritas.
What a life,
just spinning around,
never stopping,
endless ground.
Just loving each day,
loving each night,
everything,
feeling so right.
A Wandering Dream
As I watch the boats,
setting sail upon the blue ocean,
I feel my heart rise,
lifting to a pirate notion.
Wanting to be among,
the motley cast and crew,
wanting to be a pirate,
if only for an hours few.
Alas, I am a mere dreamer,
casting out from the shore,
but how I love to cast,
if only for a moment, nothing more.
A Poetry Journey 
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