On that last day
At minus eight degrees
With the sunrise
Whipped with black clouds,
A threatening grey blanket
And blue skies peeping,
It was like most
Last days,
You know the mixture,
Pain, sadness,
Apprehension,
Anticipation
Peeking.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
7:56 AM December 31, 2014
So the conversation grows
About the 2015 election,
The question is,
Are people thinking
Or simply swimming
In propaganda and thoughts
Others want them to think,
The fear is that many plan
To vote against something
Rather than for something,
Are against and anarchy
Distant relatives.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
8:12 AM December 30, 2014
Seagulls and ravens
Three days to the end
Then we start over
Or is it pretend,
In this illusion
Of seconds and time
Straining through star spit
Searching for rhymes,
I saw you that morning
Still love you I do
But like seagulls and ravens
We’re lost in the blue.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
7:59 AM December 29, 2014
She spoke
Of broken hearts
And Sundays,
Gloomy afternoons,
How no one
Really loved her,
It was her body
They yearned to tune,
She spoke
Of loneliness and sadness,
Wandering through
Her rooms,
How no one
Really loved her,
Neath the magic
Of the moon.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
9:00 AM December 28, 2014
Wind storms and anomalies
Don’t last too long,
Like people on
The planet
They’re here and
They’re gone,
But the
Mysterious
Universe
Spins on
And on.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
5:20 AM December 27, 2014
Perhaps it’s fitting
That a fat man,
A gay reindeer,
Artificial trees and
Plastic decorations
Be our symbols for
Christmas,
We push and shove
To line up to buy
Cheap trinkets from
The East to give to
Those we supposedly
Love,
Black Fridays that
Stretch for days
And Boxing Day sales
That start days before
Christmas,
Stir and excite us.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
10:34 AM December 24, 2014
Well Joe,
Everyone knows
That’s the way it goes,
Although most seldom
Think about it until a
Voice, a rocker leaves,
And then perhaps we
Grieve a little bit for
Ourselves as well;
Our own demise
Looming.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com
5:26 PM December 23, 2014
