Tyson Laughing

He emits rapid-fire
Giggles and squeaks,
Sporadic bursts and
Melodic peels of
Two year old glee.

Sounding like three
Very happy banshees we
All join in the game;
Rolling on the floor, wrapped
In belly-aching guffaws,
Tee-hees and ha-ha’s…

Infectious are all the smiles,
As crazy as we can be;
Exhausted we collapse
In a heap…
A giggle here and
There goes another…
It all starts again because,
Babies always laugh at silly faces*

August Rush

The sun reflected in the rear-view mirrors
Of the continuous snaking, slithering by
The jammed, congested chaos repeated daily
Hear the beep-blast, then the insults fly

The consistency of the dreaded grind
Same old, same old dance of echoes
The carpool lane is bumper to bumper
Where budding rage begins its throes

School zones are awake and blinking
Better slow it down or risk a ticket
At the bus stop, a shy boy waits
Chewing bubblegum, leaning on a picket*

Passover

Across the road there…at
The other side of maybe; we
Believe the grass is greener
And hope breeds enlightened notions

Of dreams here and there
Of aspiring, wishful wants or needs
All left beneath the hollowed ground
Where silence is the wisest sound

Across the road there…
Fallen ones are interred
Legacies embraced and honored
Our cherished never deferred

Over there…the light scribes listen
They do hear time tell
The names of those we know
The sparks we can’t let go*

If dreams came true:
I would like to be...

The breeze that lifts your locks
from (slightly) over-heated shoulders,
on a warm summer afternoon.

I wish I were the rainbow that,
leads you to a treasured scene
filled with passionate, blissful things...
or a siren reaching for you with
my hypnotic, irresistable, soulful tune.

I can picture us; as we
take walks in the twilight hours
along the bank of a (chilled night) still river...
I'll hold tighter when you shiver
as we bask in the aura of the moon.

If I could be that, ray of sun
that awakens you gently, every dawn;
or the breath you sip, before you yawn.
We'll gaze out our window as flowers bloom,
while robins (perched high) begin to croon.

I'll promise to marry you;
dreaming of June*

Sur-reality by: Jon` B. Crenshaw

Awaken consciousness with
words of infinite wisdoms that
arouse the intellect of
those unaware of "poetology"

when those who seek enlightenment
or enrichment of their own
personal and spiritual development
will find their time aptly spent

within the mind there are
vast open spaces and places
in which limits cease to exist
where time is never bound by
the blisses of ignorance

in those places
hope runs amok
and dreams play amongst clouds
of splendid deisre for living
where the fantasy
that is also reality
creates a smile
on an ordinary day*