In the echoes of my mind


My thoughts some abused,
A few are sometimes never used.
While others leave my mind,
But only if I choose.

When I write my poems,
I never choose the word's
to write. They just flow
Out of my very being,
Each and every night.

Sometimes when I wake at night,
For some reason I have to write.
A flood of words wash over me,
Some poems should never be.

Some are whenever I can are used,
While others I don't wish to choose.
Each and every poem is a part of me,
That tells you who I am.
My Maxine will always be,
I'd rather publish and be damned.

There seems to be,
From the river to the sea.
An oasis of thoughts,
Following after me.

A neighbour wears the shortest,
Of shorts during winter times.
It barely covers her backside,
But it never covers up my mind.

No I don't wish to make a fuss,
When our creator created us.
Should have made chameleons,
To stop man with all of his sins.
Then it wouldn't matter about,
The many colours of his skin.
It matters more how he lives within.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 107 times
Written on 2023-02-27 at 12:32

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
One of your stream of consciousness poems Alan, which I always enjoy. A minor quibble - shouldn't she be wearing the shortest of shorts - of sorts?