humor
Metamorphosis
change is the only constant, In this world of signs and simulations, We must adapt and evolve, To survive endless mutations. Lost in the quantum foams unseen, We search for meaning in the in-between, But the past and future are entwined, Our minds are ahead, and we'll leave the past behind. .. Word of signs and simulations. Truths are tanged, Endless mutations .. A realist may be a pessimist or somewhere in between, Lost in the quantum foams unseen! As, ..Past and future entwined, Minds Ahead Modern phenomenon dancing away ...Past and future entwined, Minds Ahead Navigating the labyrinth of perception, Surreal symphony, Sudden rush of blood The spectrum of perspectives! Chemistry of paradox Where emotions collide, Where do we reside?
By Alexxmarcer3 years ago in Poets
The Rain
I hear leaves drinking precipitation; I hear rich leaves on top Giving the poor underneath Many drops; 'Tis a sweet clamor to hear These green leaves drinking close. Furthermore, when the Sun emerges, After this Downpour will stop, A wondrous Light will fill Every dim, round drop; I trust the Sun radiates brilliantly; 'Twill be an exquisite sight.
By Edris Post3 years ago in Poets
About the Sea Fever
I should go down to the oceans once more, to the desolate ocean and the sky, And all I ask is a tall boat and a star to guide her by, What's more, the wheel's kick and the breeze's melody and the white sail's shaking, Furthermore, a dim fog on the ocean's face, and a dark sunrise breaking. I should go down to the oceans once more, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a reasonable call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a blustery day with the white mists flying, Also, the flung splash and the blown spume, and the ocean gulls crying. I should go down to the oceans once more, to the transient wanderer life, To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the breeze resembles a whetted blade; And all I ask is a joyful yarn from a giggling individual meanderer, Furthermore, calm rest and a sweet dream when the long stunt's finished.
By Edris Post3 years ago in Poets
About The Spring Fever
At the point when a feller feels a yearning For the medder in his bosom. At the point when the robins north are swarming, Where they flurry to fabricate their home. At the point when the frogs peep in the puddle Where I love to hear them sing, Then, at that point, my mind is in a tangle, For I realize it's truly spring. At the point when the twofold windows cover Us until we need more air; At the point when a dissent comes and mother Can't get through them longer there; At the point when we ope the basement screens, Kitchen entryways are on the swing, Clean the storages, fix the gutters― Then I realize its genuinely spring. At the point when the wild ducks and geese are going Toward the north, "hauling" as they fly; At the point when the streams are spilling over, What's more, a rainbow plates the sky; At the point when the cultivator turns the stubble Where the bluebirds pleasantly sing, At the point when comes cover beating inconvenience, Then I'm certain it's spring. At the point when the jack-light men are skewering Silver suckers in the stream, Furthermore, the angleworms showing up. Appear to be very restless for my snare; At the point when the smooth daylights call Till the factory wheel begins to sing, Then, at that point's, the time the fish, I figure, 'Spect to see me―Come! It's spring!
By Edris Post3 years ago in Poets
