Your Kaleidoscope | Short Poem No. 118

your Kaleidoscope
Photo by Marcus Castro on Unsplash

I’m your kaleidoscope.
I’m always in spiral.
Round and round I go.
Watch my soul do its waltz.

There are things that turn me
– against my will.
And there’s things that turn
– me against my will.

I’m your kaleidoscope,
so just be entertained.
After all, every soul
just wants a claim to fame.

The Waves

Chapter 2020. Honestly Self-Aware.

© Jonathan Swift and WritingWithStrangers, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

The Waves are Rocking Me | Short Poem No. 117

The waves are rocking me
Photo by Tim Marshall from Unsplash

The waves are rocking me inside their crib.

I’m melancholy. Hazy. Unfocused.

I don’t know me – What I do – What I did.

. . .Don’t even recollect when I penned this.

My conscience says, “Pull yourself together.”

“This isn’t the plan for a man to be.”

“No, he should stand tall and face the weather.”

“Raise the sails, stand helm, and conquer the sea.”

But I’m indifferent and apathetic.

I’m stale and calm – Dull and unmoving.

But I’m okay with being pathetic.

I dissolved my resolve in self-soothing.

Where currents flow, they take me where I go.

And when I’m gone, no one will even know.

Speak

Chapter 2020. Honestly Self-Aware.

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Speak. . .Is it over? | Short Poem No. 116

Speak. . .Is it over?
Or is it only starting?
Tell me about love. . .

Speak is it over
Photo by T.H. Chia on Unsplash

. . .As a half-moon halves the dark-azure sky.

Out Here by Myself

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Snowflakes Fall in my Hand | Short Poem No. 115

Snowflakes fall in my hand before fading,
enticing moments of contemplation.

So. . .Today is Christmas.
I should as myself, ‘What does it mean?’

I know every lecture that I’ve been instructed.
What to believe. . .what Christmas is about.
But. . .To be honest. . . I’m only human.
Frankly, I feel like a child tonight.

So, if I can find respite from lessons;
To just lay in this manger and be calm.
Because it’s God, but it’s just a baby. . .
Giving, not rebuke, but joy. . . peace. . .and love. . .

Snowflakes fall in my hand
Photo by Darius Cotoi on Unsplash

If You Still Read Me

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.