The truly courageous of us,

are those willing to embrace who they wish to be

to make their own choices without the fuss

to embrace oneself is the key


But this does not mean those who fight the good fight

are not ones to be considered courageous,

those willing to live or to die to protect what is right,

they are also truly ones to be remembered in greatness .


This is not to say that those overthrowing a great power,

are not also doing what they think is just

history sides with the victor, the lost in flower

those who fight do so because they must.


Agreeing with all definitions

courage itself can be within all

from the single parent to the crowd willing in placation

courage to act and able to answer the call





via Daily Prompt: Courage


The joy of tending to the soil

of seeing the life bud anew,

is beauteous and worth the toil

Even if only a single plant I grew.


This plant did grow strong

overtaking its fellows, its fruits did prosper.

Its offspring knew where to belong

taking all the nutrients they could muster.


Now this plant can own the garden

Left alone, it dominates all the rest

If unchecked it will only darken

the garden that I wish blessed.


So passed the plant that overwhelmed

my whole garden, taking all

leaving none, it is now culled

devastated, I went back to that weird plant stall.

via Daily Prompt: Tend


As a shaft of light shines thru the cracks of my curtains

looking down I see a body wasting away.

Food is ever so plentiful

but the body lacks nourishment.

Water be ever so available

but the thirst is not present.

My body takes on exercise every day

but it lacks in spirit to gain its fruition.

All five senses are hard at work

and though I can see, I do not.

A purposeless existence is one to fear

but in an infinite universe, what purpose can stand against it?





A rose is a beautiful flower

buy enough and you can build a tower

with more currency comes more power

what the farmer got with his was a plower

it makes the cow’s milk go sour

because all it could do was cower.

Every book for rhymes I shall scour.

as i can’t keep this going, I shall be ever so dour

I’ll need comfort food, get me that butter and flour.


it doesn’t count if it sounds the same but its spelled differently!

Bah then I am done


20 minute cycle.

Driven, full of spunk and passion

the die is cast.

A smile leaves, gloom awakens a depression

for this next round of time.


My tears wash away my face

nothing is left but a canvas.

The next roll I embrace

my new hat one of hope.


The endless list of choices

floods my very senses.

My ego is full of voices

but I understand not the meaning.


If only I could act naturally

wait which one said that.

To die is to live sporatically

for as long as the die falls, the stories multiply.





An endless cycle of infinite scale

a snake eats its own tail

no end creates no beginning

thus nameless, I went with Robb or Ross.


Robb or Ross did not know time

like the ant knows not the clime

seasons pass by in a flicker

a groundhog left its hole.


Its shadow did it see

it did not leave, and nor did he

from bed he watched times endless march

until his clock and he were as dust.


The dust fed the earth and became so much more

layered and layered it went closer to the core

until ages passed by as a blink

times passage and earths pressure made it to oil.


Dragged from the comfort of the deep

Robb or ross still did everlastingly sleep

he was used to fuel an electric generator

and unbeknownst to he, was spent in a week.


Consider not the endless walk of chronos

it stays its madness, instead be like the moss

stay firm to your foundation, be in the now

to compare anything to the infinite will always be for naught.