Creative…Or Not?

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I am drowning in words of disarray
Creatively sorting through my day
Yet so much happens through eyes a-double
Am I certain I’m creative…or just in trouble?

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© Copyright 2015 Robin McShane

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Sensing Dimensions

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Running wild around twisting lanes
Shunting ships, sailing trains
Flying cars and driving planes
Hunting bips in ailing rains

Nightmare worlds that don’t exist
Spinning mind, imploding bits
Garish light, flat lands that list
Grabbing hands, twisting wrist

Grinning, wide eyed, painted face
Teeth stained and twisted out of place
Flying closer, faster pace
Lifting feet to run the race

All dimensions just begun
So it is we sense just one
Except when senses spill our brain
Vortex, wormhole, up the drain

****

© Copyright 2015 Robin McShane

Colours of You – NaPoWriMo 2015 – Day 20 (to prompt)

If some roses are red and some violets blue,
How do I know the colour of you?
I know you like savoury, I know you love food,
I think you like chocolate, though that’s maybe not good.

I know you prefer to do things yourself,
And you say you have loads of things back on your ‘shelf’.
You really don’t care what people may think,
And your least favourite place is – the kitchen sink

You live to the rhythm of your own special dance,
You’ll listen to some and give them a chance,
But others you meet, types you’ve seen before,
You simply shrug off and show them the door.

You live with a purpose, to teach and to show,
But only to those who will listen, you know,
Each moment awake, you live to the full,
Yes, even in darkness, you don’t find it dull.

So, what colour you are, I could never define,
You’re all ever-changing, not one to confine,
A challenge to live with, a pleasure too rare,
Wait, I do know your colour, you’re a treasure to share.

****

The prompt today is ” to write a poem that states the things you know.”
Although my history has taught me that we never really know another person,
there are some things we think we know in the now…! Enjoy!

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© Copyright 2015 Robin McShane
As per this blog’s statement
Thank you

Time Bites – NaPoWriMo 2015 – Day 11 (off prompt)

Time flagrantly bites the day,
Wordlessly chews it away,
Hiding in frantic turns and twists
The tongue of havoc, chaos, anarchy.

Perceived as running, in truth
It stands quietly watching,
Ruminating,
Waiting for us to find it,
Fill it,
Furnish it with meaning,
Beyond which it is meaningless,
Vacuous,

Until it bites.

****

© Copyright Robin Mcshane
as per this blog’s copyright statement

Gold

Triumphantly men came to gold,
Lives were captured, battered, sold,
Deep within the soul stayed quiet,
Waiting for its time to riot.

But never did a chance it get,
While rivers ran with sand and grit,
Men bent doubled, sifting life,
Burying heart, bearing strife.

Cities built, land torn apart,
Domination from the start,
Foundations grainy, dust and earth,
Fighting hard for all their worth.

Society came rising,
Culturally downsizing,
Revolution changed the view,
Real power simply watched and knew

That times show changes, fortunes made,
But everyday the same is played,
Everyman in word and deed,
Selling soul for needs perceived.

Ego’s Pride – (NaPoWriMo Day 28)

Ply your trade
Along highways wide
Find a way
Through ego’s pride

Living life from outside in
Accepting all that’s said
Perceptions, expectations
Closing inner dead

Souls cry out in torment
Purpose unfulfilled
Living life in torrents
Meaning often killed

Minstrel Paths – NaPoWriMo Day 10

Then wand’ring minstrels came to me,
Fleet of foot and fancy free,
Took my breath, my life, my way,
Stole my lady far that day.

Sang and danced and all made merry,
Drank the wine and drained the sherry,
Delved beneath my steadfast way,
Shook foundations, made pillars sway.

Long held beliefs toppled through their sieve,
Ways of living disrupt they did,
Held me down, yet let me go,
Wrapped me in their way, their show.

Freed me from my lifelong chains,
Took the binds and cut the reins,
Freedom burst upon my soul,
All light and love and Go! Go! Go!

So moving with them at their pace,
Accepting that there is no race,
Flowing with the streams of light,
Into moments shining bright.

Finding new paths opening up,
Meandering trails with buttercup,
All leading home with choices rife,
Returning us to the source of life.

Collecting all experience gathered,
Refining essence, purity balanced,
Light and love surrounding all,
Please release your perceptions tall.

Step into the new found day,
Different, each, their special way,
To take us home, our tales to tell,
In one big swirl our history gel.

Ephemeral

T’was Sunday morning on the farm,
The cows had all been milked,
The pigs lay softly snorting,
The fences all rebuilt.

Chickens were a-clucking,
Dogs barking away,
Rain had started falling,
On this quiet, special day.

The breakfast table groaned
With a hearty meal to come,
Coffee sat a-brewing
As the farmer thought him done.

But dark clouds now came rolling in,
Threatening their stay,
The painter’s brush so wide and cruel
Would paint them all away.

The brush it swung so fast and true,
For the painter another role,
And the farmer and his merry bunch
Thought that they were in control.

How sad to think we live our lives
In the illusion that they’re real,
Until another comes along
And all the skins unpeel.

Our canvass fades before us,
What we thought was ours for keeps,
Then simply disappears,
Into the ether seeps.

© Copyright March 2014 Rob McShane
All rights reserved

A Day For You

It has been a stunning day,
Of thoughts, experiences shared,
Life well-lived in moments deep,
How we as people cared.

Perceptions seen, no judgement made,
Accepting each his own,
Awareness of just where we fit,
To be happy or bemoan.

Days of moments, seconds long,
Or minutes in the making,
Looking back, exploring sure
Our contribution and our taking.

How good it is to have lived this day
To have shared the waking time
Alone, together, it matters not
In the presence of the Divine.

As life is lived true to itself
And energy runs through,
It simply is and what it is
Is important just for you.

© Copyright Robin McShane, February 2014. All rights reserved