A list poem to promote a blog contest of one of my good friends online. Please make sure to click on the links to see the actual post.

1008201216401659

It’s been a while, I wonder why,
No follow backs on my twitter profile.
Could it be that I failed to read
10 reasons twitter thinks I’m a twit?

It’s been a while, I wonder why,
I haven’t written so many rhymes.
Only snippets of abstract thoughts,
that sink and float inside my mind.

It’s been a while, I wonder why,
When I last saw my friends online.
Could it be that I consumed,
the last bit of inspiration this time?

It’s been a while, I wonder why,
140 characters are hard to come by.
Every word that I have sought,
gets no answer, no replies.

It’s been a while, I wonder why,
the fun in words are out of tune.
Feeling like a twit in a world, assumed
a role of the unpopular fool.

It’s been a while, I wonder why,
the shout outs and links were out of line.
Forgetting social graces,
manners and courtesy displaced.

Through the hour glass

shaped wire

I make out a figure

of a woman.

In her form,

I can see the universe.

All the colors and shapes

that form

the space

around us are present

in her outline.

In the curves

I can make out each planet,

each cell,

and each subatomic particle.

She is the universe,

she is life!

- Poetry by Frank Cunha III

0901201217551806

Silence sits into the night,

of ephemeral company.

Fire spits taunting delights,

hungry for lustful symphony.

Spheres arrive in controlled flight,

illuminating dark soliloquy.

Dance and spiral eager sights,

of rectitude and solemnity.

Beyond the yearning remains,

ever so physical and haunting.

A child in a dreamful restraint,

awoke with cautious foreboding.

Even the night could refrain,

from a surreptitious calling.

Tranquil voices soothe disdain,

and sits into a night of longing.

Image Rights to Zorlone

0526201209030922

Light and shadow in a path,

across a bridge that builds a gap.

Fighting a long forsaken wrath,

unseen from a traveler’s map.

Engaged with words and swords,

battle with brute and mental force.

To sweat and bleed such fate abhorred,

then face this final, inevitable course.

Read more…

Image rights to Karen Glosser

0426201219141926

High 50s, sunny, and trees in bloom,

milkweed floating thru the air,

birds singing -

it’s spring.

But snow is on the ground!

Read more…