.         Poetry Explorer

Poetry Sampler © 2012 R.L. Lyons


On the Freeway

Roses, lilacs,
And hydrocarbon gasses.
Beauty wages war,
On rolling masses.

Nitrous, Sulphurous,
Eucalyptus, Willow.
Blossoms bloom,
And smog banks billow.

Sixty thousand miles,
And hope filled dreams,
Many more miles,
Of polluted brooks and streams.

The flowers choke and cry,
Then weep at our genius.
All the while praying for,
An airborne miracle to clean us.

A car pool, a bus, a boat or a train,
Please, any brilliant scheme.
To bring us an answer...
Complex or plain,
Ensure life and keep,
Our lungs and hearts clean.

If sparkling-air is the fashion,
We’ll work to make it our way.
For the sake of all our tomorrows,
Think roses today.



Ode to an Italics Pen

I found you fat friend,
Long time; no see.
Where on earth have you’ve been.
And why have you been eluding me,

Your cursive nib is all the rage,
When Biros and pencils won’t do.
To add flash and style to a page,
Or when scribing bold lines of Ħĩńđoo.

Your slim lines are elemental and true,
While I’m enraptured in poetic bliss.
But I prefer strokes of dark royal blue,
When scribing my week’s grocery lists,

And turned you on your side,
Crisp Italics you glide.
As you edify and delight the eye,
And hopefully make Romantics sigh.

We’ll write a poem in big strokes for while,
With showy words, keen essence and wit.
Then I will drown in your panache and style,
At the charm and poignancy of it.

In desert sun, mountain snow or rain,
My commitment and resolution is plain
You’re my friend, forever until…

Darn it, you are lost and gone again.


A Poet’s Quest

O’ Thought: the priceless treasure of a man,
Conjuring bold images beyond the day.
Lead us to another time and plan,
And please to show us the way.

A haunting question:

What shall be a poet’s place,
Amidst kind-mannered hearts and sighs.
Or on a blood-stained battle space,
Where the body, not Honour dies.

A poignant poem in a bowery stall,
Cocktail set, or Rampart's mission,
Which gives a picture of us all,
And tells best of our true condition.

Perhaps in a rough and tumble social scene,
Taking a bit of life from each and more,
In society's all consuming scheme.
Smashing pretensions down to the floor.

Or shall he rest in calm stillness then,
And reside in poetic word’s delight.
To muse, and rhyme, in a quiet den,
Within the silent cloak of night.

Where shall he find his destiny,
His paramount poetic abode?
What concept should he strive to see,
To build his celebrated Ode...

Click here to read the complete poem.



Increase Your Creativity to Write Better Poetry

All thinkers are creative in different ways and to varying degrees.
Use the power of creativity to empower your poems.

If you have questions or comments, please click here to send an e-mail .


Ron Lyons