Too Tired by Mike Williams 05/27/2016 @ 10:43 A.M.

I'm too tired to think,
And too tired to care.
Too tired to feel much,
All except weary of wear.

My mind's mushy and gormless,
And I am so uninspired.
I slowly drag around listless,
Because I'm much too tired.

Apples for the Dreamer by Mike Williams 05/05/2016 @ 7:36 P.M.

Delight in apples and savor, 
For Fall's harvest is fleeting. 
While the orb's sweet taste today has flavor, 
Tomorrow hard of eating. 

The pro rata temporis of childhood and youth, 
And folly too soon disways. 
The wither of age lost its tooth, 
Gum wishful for those yesterdays. 

The tree is loveliest in bloom, 
And fruit sweetest its prime. 
Past having tried, will consume, and exhume; 
Roots deep within the mind. 

Then waste no moment, and take pleasure; 
And gather while you may. 
For joy comes little in later measure, 
And apples but a day. 

Dancing With The Stars (Nonameter) by Mike Williams 05/04/2016 @ 9:42 A.M.

Under a blanket of darken hue, 
Beyond the sea of tranquility. 
After fireflies frolicked in the dew, 
The stars all come out dancing with me. 
Heavenly eyes blinking in my view, 
That wink in the skies so brilliantly. 
They make their silent nightly debut, 
And forget the world's despondency. 
While the day is left behind to rue. 

The Evening Primrose (Octameter Chiasmus) by Mike Williams 05/03/2016 @ 12:11 P.M.

In the evening laid down low, 
The brow of the flower now bows. 
Soft in dusty sades of primrose, 
'Til the sovereign moon avows. 

For proud comes the silvery moon, 
The primrose's dress slowly fades. 
In her wither and in her blooom, 
She humbles before night parades. 

Humanity by Mike Williams 05/03/2016 @ 9:17 A.M.

I see our shared humanity, 
Between all the opposing odds. 
We speak a different language, 
With different cultures and gods. 

What is lost in the translation, 
Are the details I can't relate. 
But if any should suffer them, 
We'd have only a heart of hate. 

Yet I see your inner beauty, 
How very much you are like me. 
It isn't the odds that hold truth, 
It's in our similarity. 

I see within your eyes shining, 
And hear a smile within a word. 
But through it all I'm pining, 
To know what is often unheard. 

Upon the earth we are strangers, 
Both of us from a distant land. 
I sense familiarity, 
For all that I don't understand. 

To strip away our differences, 
And peer beyond complexity. 
We share our experiences, 
Of our common humanity. 

Naiads of the Spring by Mike Williams 05/02/2016 @ 11:10 P.M.

The Naiads fell in love, 
And actively pursued, 
A Mortal of affairs, 
Of which they could perview. 

Spring Nymphs of Bithynia, 
Into the grotto lured, 
There within the waters, 
A thirst that can't be cured. 

Where Hylas filled his cup, 
And still his echo rings, 
Dryope and her sisters, 
Oh! Naiads of the springs. 

Enigma Divine (Didactic Chiasmus) by Mike Williams 05/02/2016 @ 12:24 P.M.

The clock ticks the passage of time, 
And I observe the minuites change, 
From one season to the next, 
The leaves on the trees bud and fall. 

Birth, death, and rebirth of it all, 
The cycle of life is complex, 
And I find its allure quite strange, 
Time is an enigma divine. 

Swelling of The Soul (Unmetered Rhyming Verse) by Mike Williams 10/26/2015 @ 3:18 P.M.

So often deceived is the bone clad rattletrap we call the Mind, 
Should it age as an apple and lose its wonder and lusterous shine, 
And of love's organ we call the heart aflutter and prone to change, 
Should it feel a new perspective or turn darkly and something strange, 
Perhaps the vexation of life is nothing at all but merely in its angle, 
Our balance is lost or found hinged on uncertainties that temporarily dangle. 

To see with neither mind nor heart nor eyes as we rise and fall, 
And gage the world with our soul or without looking not at all, 
Are these exclusive or a single set of pieces often ill fit? 
To fire and cool or make us thus a fool in shadows perversely lit, 
For I look with one and neglect the others and lose my perspective, 
Or the probability lies fault with me alone becoming entirely selective. 

Youthful ideas now seem to have lost their muse as idle fits of folly, 
Time has worn them all well enough away and prone to melancholy, 
Today I look if nothing more distempered unlike my younger years, 
I played with time and toyed with emotions and now plied with their fears, 
How I used to feel invincible and time itself seemed to hold no sway, 
Old age has rendered me quite fragile and broken down of my former day. 

The mind I once chided of other men now withers inside of its shell, 
And the heart of youth dallied and abused and corrupted unfit to swell, 
The dreams of long ago are nothing but turned to ashes and dust, 
My eyes have ages since looked their last blinded toward former lust, 
All that remains is some part of me crying aloud and burning like a coal, 
Welling up inside like swollen tumultuous pride the thing we call a soul. 

The Court of No Confidence by Mike Williams 05/02/2016 @ 9:62 A.M.

Before the incompetent court and idiot judge, 
In the nonsense theater of tyranical grudge, 
Watched by an abject jury of expendable pawns, 
To set my freedom and future frivolously on, 
As if a knave accussed of stealing tarts, 
Just as Alice stood before the queen of hearts. 

Justice seems dolled as a game of chess,
A revolving tea party of strife and stress, 
I glance timidly upon the looking glass, 
"No thank you your honorless I will pass," 
The knights of the relm have indeed gone mad, 
While the innocent are swiftly all deemed bad. 

Though Alice stumbled down a rabbit hole, 
I too have fallen and payed a heavy toll, 
The court itself has committed a crime, 
Abusing its position while neglecting its mind, 
Here the truth is denied a rightful recompense, 
I make a motion to vote here no confidence! 

I imagine this must be exactly how Alice felt, 
When the treacherous fabricate every card delt, 
But this is not a fictional story of wonderland, 
This is apart of America I don't quite understand, 
The question persists "exactly who is to blame?" 
How did our government and courts go insaine? 

Love Is An Action by Mike Williams 04/28/2016 @ 12:54 P.M.

Dissatisfaction, 
The same old story, 
Love is an action, 
Not allegory. 

You say those three word, 
They have no meaning, 
I hear "I love you," 
But I'm just dreaming. 

I hold on to hope, 
Instead of your arm, 
Hearing hollow words, 
That have no real charm. 

I desire much more, 
More than empty words, 
Love is an action, 
Not something absurd. 

Oh! Sadness Lives On by Mike Williams 04/28/2016 @ 11:22 A.M.

Her eyes are closed, 
As she's eternal sleeping. 
Her lips ice cold, 
In their silent keeping. 
She hears me not, 
With moans and weeping. 
My beloved is gone, 
Oh! Sadness lives on. 

Her cheecks are pale, 
Agony the fatal hour. 
The blush which fades, 
While death may lour. 
Before me she lays, 
And I crying cower. 
My beloved is gone, 
Oh! Sadness lives on. 

Her place of rest, 
Is laid a stone. 
Deep within my breast, 
An aching of bone. 
A heart for two, 
Now beats all alone. 
My beloved is gone, 
Oh! Sadness lives on.