There’s so much in life I can’t see;
it seems as though I can’t win.
Must failure be part of my destiny;
am I finished, before I begin?
Failure is the great teacher of life;
perhaps that’s what I’m to be;
if you doubt it;
2025 posts in
REALITY
Poems about Reality
Words; windblown expressions of thought;
thoughts that are transformed to sound;
they don’t always say what they ought;
yet, they affect all the people, around.
Words had their beginning as simple tools;
communication of reality; their design;
thoughts, themselves, converted to jewels;
expressing majesty and beauty, devine.
All fashioned
…What is meant by, “Word becomes flesh,”
as a Bible verse claims truth to be?
It means one reality, takes another one’s place;
and an energy became flesh you could see.
Every word spoken was authored by thought;
for thought, alone, spoke reality to be;
and, when to fruition,
It requires time to cross the street;
a place where two factors converge;
signaling where time and distance meet;
infinity; where time and space merge.
We’re assuming, there’s a street to cross;
and a timepiece just ticking away;
time and space seem to be our boss;
yet our
It’s morning; the break of dawn;
eraser of all the past’s mistakes;
time for all of life to move on;
as, once again, a new dawn breaks.
Pry fingers off, all remnants of past;
we weren’t meant to always hold on;
sadness nor mistakes; not meant to
Most understand love and deep devotion;
it’s what we seem to live for;
but loneliness substitutes toxic emotion;
and poisonous thoughts we abhor.
We covet companionship; share each feeling;
to share our thoughts, one and all.
But loneliness energies send us reeling;
converting our walk to a crawl.
Why
…Lying asleep, a door to my right;
was forcibly, pushed wide open;
alertness, restored; ending night;
it’s longevity was only mere token.
Why was reality suddenly driven,
to invade my peaceful slumber?
Why did it permit, a jolt, be given;
fiercely, my sleep, to encumber?
The incident, it seems:
…As I walked to my mailbox, beside the road
a piece of trash caught my eye.
The remains of a crushed cardboard box,
was there in the grass, nearby.
It meant nothing to me; this litter, this trash;
merely tossed from a car passing by;
an affront to surroundings, this