reflections
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Nous sommes au mois de Septembre
L’été vient juste de perdre ses membres
Sa chaleur, sa beauté et sa tendresse.
autumn reflectionswrinkled leaves wrinkled facesmourning dead leaves....Mark Toney © 2021.9/25/2021 - Poetry form: Haiku (for you)
My dreams are brightfeather lightat nightconditions rightCarefreeMind freeLife's challengesto be wonFeeling warmthfrom noonday sun.I dream of waterfloatingboating
53 days of Donald's rule
No more seeing the ignorant fool
Into the White House a savior arrives
Bringing wisdom and saving lives
I found inspiration in my everyday
I know that's a very bland thing to say
but I am my inspiration for my existence to stay
I am inspired by how I have become
What I have created
Mama, why did this
Mama, i was to be your hope
Your happiness and life
It was not my fault
Mama, was i even there?
When grandma talked to you
Warned you of the bastard?
My unseen papa
Mama, why did this
Mama, i was to be your hope
Your happiness and life
It was not my fault
Mama, was i even there?
When grandma talked to you
Warned you of the bastard?
My unseen papa
I was having lunch with a friend,
Cheese pizza, Mountain Dew, and fries.
A group of guys sitting nearby,
Were laughing aloud at the school cafeteria.
One of them approaches and sitting next to me
He says,
My mirror is a liar and a cheat. I look at the mirror and see that the reflection is not mine. I’m not as old as this man. His hair is greying and his beard is gray. He is wearing glasses just so he can see. Who is this man?
Because I love you
I see you for who you are
I am not only an admirer, but I see you as a star.
A divine reflection
Not my missing piece
Because when I found you, we both had worked to feel complete
The stars don't seem so far away,
when you remember yesterday.
The way the moon shined,
and the feeling of a wish.
The beams of light fluttering down,
a kiss.
Through jaded geomancy and blurred fantasy I perceive
Shapes broad and thin, sights bright and grim,
Approaching growth to gain but with the excitement I grieve,
the future of america
sits on hard grey seats
in a hard grey interior,
encased in a yellow façade.
we are the chameleons
reflecting our world,
but neither the cheery paint
A car loses control and hits a baby.
Reporters swirl around the dying innocence,
Like vultures around potential demise.
I grab my pen and write,
I grab my laptop and type,
I grab my phone and tweet
I will be content
Since my needs will all be met,
I can share my hope.
I wield a fist that has shattered glass, leaving in its wake
Shards strewn across the crimson splatter
lining the sink where I weep
sinking,
sinking,
sinking down into
Today, I walked in your shoes, I walked a mile
It was unpleasant, for all the memories you shared
I wondered at the weight, a heavy burden to bear
Ideas come and go,
Gliding to and fro.
Some melt away like dying snow.
Others grow,
To become things all will know.
Some lead us to strange places,
To cramped, wondrous spaces
I have not always loved myself.
My hips are too big, my eyes are too small, my skin is too uneven, my thighs are too meaty, my hair is too curly, my teeth are too crooked,
My Philosophy,-
-It’s Flawless,
Perfection.
It’s Visceral, immaculate.
No right, no wrong.
Naught but self-reflection,
A supernova’s glow, set upon all direction.
To those who turn a blind eye
To all the happenings of the world
“it’s not interesting enough”
“it doesn’t affect me”
“why should I care?”
Imagine this
You’re 7 feet under ground
There is a lot of flaw
In an adolescent girl
Leading a women’s ministry,
Judged by the world.
There is a lot of sadness
In an adolescent girl
Motivating others,
Smiling at the world.
Everyone has a different form of expression
everyone is their own piece of art.
walking, living, breathing art
But what perplexes me so is that they never get to see themselves
through someone else's eyes.
All persons must go their own ways, All people must do their own thing.
For we can not predict or hope, To follow the path of the winds.
They will twist and turn you inside out, Like the tides of the Tempest's sea.
I'm not afraid of dying;
I'm afraid of living.
I no longer sleep,
I'm paralyzed m=by life.
Whom do I live for?
To wake up to everyday
The person in the mirror,
looking back at me
To have any job I desired
Would be quite a miracle.
Toiling day in, day out
But enjoying it- that is the key.
Although I have not always had the most pleasant
Experiences at the dentist,
She was a worker from Primerica
The best company in America
Studies her way out to be a doctor
By the watchful eye of her brother, the protector
There's two people staring back at me,
a reflection;
a nightmare.
The difference between the one in the mirror,
the one I want to be,
is that, unlike the one in my nightmare,
I am told I should not fear Perfection-
I should not fear it- for I will never reach it.
colors of the World are painted about Her
Searching back with open eyes-
Walking down the hall alone
Her legs feel heavy, dense
Her body seems so empty
Her thoughts are stuck in past tense.
There’s no set place she’s going
Plenty of places she hasn't been
I’d treat you like a queen, but what does it mean?
Not a thing, cause I’m new, and you want the old
You tell me nothing even matters, you lie to me
Warmth of your touch… yes, your lie's so bold
I watch from the balcony
She's sitting there surrounded by the sea
The ebb and flow swallow
Her vision of me
There's a crowd around her
Yet she's still lonely
Everything is so clear
I sit here thinking about you
Wondering if you're okay and
What's going through your mind
Are you alright, love? What
Troubles you face, surely I can
Help you fix if only you'll let me in
Angel of mine
Angel of mine
Things were always fine
Angel of mine
Angel of mine
That is no saint crossing our lines
Angel of mine
Angel of mine
Are you blind?
Angel of mine
why
why do i sit hear
why do i wonder
why do i care
is it because i am human
is it because i think
or is it just because?
why not
why not do i go out
why not do i take action
6:25 sec. Running in my life
The BUS MAN is my driver
To travel and do the exact same thing
in the bathroom
is a void I have yet to fill.
I feel important
to the stranger
with money of no worth,
This is the house of 100 pound chairs.
Where the tables are nailed to the floor.
Where the windows are made out of bullet-proof glass
and the neighbors broken and torn.
my mind spinning and throbbing
searching for answers to help you get through
sitting in the office all day
lights hurt or maybe it'd just me with my sight
because everything is like damn, 3 o'clock in the afternoon
