I heard the wind tell a whisper About me again. I heard the ocean answer back, Said I was "wishing, wishing", Wishing I was free, Oh!, like the wind, Wishing I was free just like the wind. How do they know me?! They can't see me in my home! How do they know me? 'Guess they see I'm all alone. Oh, I'm trapped up in my mind. You can see it in my eyes; But mostly, You can feel in my vibes. I heard a bullfrog laughing at me As I was walking by, And clouds are writing messages About me in the sky. I wish I had some wings So I could fly away; Fly away, and leave my pain behind. How do they know me?! They can't see me in my home! How do they know me? 'Guess they see I'm all alone. Oh, I'm trapped up in my mind You can see it in my eyes But mostly, You can feel in my vibes. By: Kurtis Lunz
Category: Poetry
Poetry
Music’s The Unstoppable Power
Music is my lantern. Sometimes, it seems to be The only unstoppable force within me. Yes, the flame does flicker. Yes, the flame does waver. Thus, is its nature To vary and add suspense and some flavor. But when the rest of me has died, I hear the music echo From inside my soul's empty container; Music is the only remainder. There's nothing else in there To absorb or deaden; So, the music just grows, Getting brighter and louder. Flames start catching and spreading, Soon shooting, Spitting a shower, A flame flume flow flower. Music's the unstoppable power. By: Kurtis Lunz
Rhyme Praise
Rhyme Prisoner. Envisioner. Tryna find my way Outside the bars of average listeners. The Christener: Spitting Baptismal Water like ministers. Arisener: Rolling the rock away that's been sitting there. I've been sitting there getting stale, Feeling ill while I'm getting more frail, Losing my chill, turning more pale. I lost my way. I lost my will. But, I pray to the Lord, So to give me The Light. He gives me The Will. He gives me The Might. Each step in his Way, I'm feeling Alright. I Thank the Lord Every day He shows me his Light.
Slowly
Slowly, the words rush out of me. The doubt that's been crowding me; Slowly, is breaking down in me. I'm breaking ground To build some new progress. Discipline: Slowly, perfecting the process. The destination is forever changing. With patience I move ahead, easy but concentrating. The only settlement is in slow motion. Constantly vacating, The way is devotion To slow and steady promotion. Enough planning an waiting For a Grand Surge; It's time to move slowly. Let my plan and actions merge. Slowly, Gracefully, Tactfully; Yet, the steady action Builds the Way more rapidly. By: Kurtis Lunz
The Myth of Frail
A Strange Thing Happened
I was a strange man. I was in a strange land. Out of place, displaced, I was feeling deranged and, A strange thing happened; I was given beer. 'Twas from the hand of a man Native to this strange land. It made me feel like a guest, And less like and island. It lifted me out of stress. It really got me back smiling. I guess it taught me lesson. Don't let that stranger in town Walk around feeling down; A little love in their direction Can be a really big blessing. -By Kurtis Lunz
Clouds
A cloud is a grouping. A cloud is together. A cloud is confusion. A cloud is the weather. Clouds made of water, Clouds made of stress, Clouds made of insects, Clouds made of sess, White Clouds, Grey Clouds, Blue Clouds, And green Clouds, Some thunder, Some Spin, Some are gentle and thin, Some worry, Some scare, Some clouds impair, Some ease, And some comfort, And some clouds provide a space for repair. -By Kurtis Lunz
Sneeze Deferred
What happens to a sneeze deferred? Does it preserve, Hang back in reserve, Festering more nerve? Or does it just hesitate Until you don't anticipate; Then, transform into a thunderous roar, That resonates and precipitates Maybe it just dissipates, and returns to a state of homeostasis Or does it just travel, To the next customer? -By Kurtis Lunz This is my little spin off of Langston Hughes' Poem "Dream Deferred" Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on...
Syncopation
Syncopation: Sinking in patience; Though, it's not about waiting, But immersing deeply In the present vibrations. Hesitation may exist As part of the presentation, But flip the reservation Into strong sensations. Be bold in weak moments. Let the great ones ease in. Hear and listen. Engage with life's rhythm. Never let the beat drop in silence or playing. Hold it. Carry it. Love it. Marry it. Syncopation. -By Kurtis Lunz
Sunday Slow
Sometimes I'm the Sunday driver going slow, The one holding up the show; A line builds behind, And I don't even know. I'm in the zone: Nowhere to be, nowhere to go. Sometimes, I'm the one that's caught in line, Caught up behind; Mostly, caught in my mind. I get mad. I get angry. Who they driving?!...Mrs. Daisy?! But there's no reason to get mad, You know why? It's like my friend Ron told me; "If ya ain't got time to stop, Wave as you go by." -By Kurtis Lunz