This is a hub of poetry written using the list found on this Hub of Poetry for inspiration.

It will contain as many of the poems as fits well before spilling into another or more hubs. Comments are always welcome. Thanks for reading.

My Inspirations include:

Some of the inspirations I get for writing come from the following sources

• Music
• Driving, travel
• The ocean
• Life experiences
• Various Writing genres including, Steampunk, Cyberpunk, Horror, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Speculative Fiction
• A somewhat morbid and dry sense of humor
• My belief system

And All

a poem by the hubber TKIMWRSVC

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There, the gentle rhythm of feet along dried sand and water. Walking along, windows being shopped along the strewn roads that traverse life as well as longitude. In search of nothing and of everything.

Out of the corner of the eye, something there, something pertaining. Just noticing the dust covered delights nestled there inside the grime, behind the window that is the doorway into pasts unknown.

They draw the eye, bring out the mind into what might never have been, colliding with all the unforeseen futures that will never be born. What tales could have been told had only the past had wandered alternate alleys, instead of the winding paths that were taken.

A doll that should have been a queen in her own land, along with the carriage of metal and glass to carry her along her ways. Not the forgotten fate suffered with only the delicate caress of a daddy long legs to smooth her dress and provide a cold comfort to her life.

"Those please in the window, spider and all." I say

Sad Trees

a poem by the hubber TKIMWRSVC

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness purpling about the street as it is walked taken along on a trip

Taken along on a journey into the inner side wafted along on the currents, that stir the broad leaves

Drifting from one land to another, the minds echoes off the streetlamps, no where else so balked Masterful strokes of the mental canvas, drawn out pauses, beyond pregnant and full of the lack of promise same as the landscape

tree lined dream, tinged with the cool caress of the eventing fog, securing what is left alone

clicking cobblestoned road echoing in dull retort, showing the unreasonableness of the townscape

Sad trees stuck there in a life not their own

Making a mockery of the cycle

that is the modern life

Trashed

a poem by the hubber TKIMWRSVC

----------------------------------------------------

Forgotten Eternally pursued by the haunting memories that prompted Forgotten  Forlorn Left alone, cast into the land of what might have been Forlorn  Tired Worn out, scratched on both sides the heart and the mind, gouged in the spirit of it all Tired  Sadness Long lost memories working to be re-evoked with each turn of the line, never to happen Sadness  

Make

a poem by the hubber TK

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wandering

Waiting

Essence unfolding

as does Paper once creased

Laid flat, ironed smooth

ineffaceable lines marking

Surpassed boundaries

as if ink blots did

a map make

Old breaks do not

lines uncrossable

Make 

Passing

a poem by the hubber TKIMWRSVC

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Passage of the corridor

Reflecting one on the other

Taking, not torn from, the grasping hands

To hold tight against

The ravages that wage

Up and down

Stone outlined way

Why

A poem by the Hubber TKIMWRSVC

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slower than today

lengthening skies

echoing the pace of the children running up and down the streets 

playing with each other,

face to face 

leaves and sticks sparking the imaginations  

There are a few cars on the roads 

not near as many as you might have imagined 

if no one cared what was what 

if everyone cared what the others all thought  

time has slowed to that pace that matches 

the way your hand feels when you are holding the hand of someone you love

  paused eternally, where it is all right 

nothing to worry about at all  

So why would anyone want something other than 

what is just right in front of them 

Why would we want a world 

where the race is run not to win,

but to just run 

why

To By

a poem by the hubber named TKIMWRSVC

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To

By

For

From

In

Each

Without

Inclusive

Essence of words

All with their own cadence

All their own flavor

Reaching down deep inside the fingertips

To elicit the response that correlates

To these words

Cannot even write about them without using them

Such a circular reference, wish there was a wizard to correct, to advise, there is that word once more, once again, using a word to explain the exact same word

How to get away from the ephemeral and cut to the core of the issue, drop down into the matter and submerge utterly

This is the goal that is sought

Bring it into the light of understanding

Of reason

Make clear the layers that exist

Between the mind and the experience

Show by the words

What really is

To

By

An abstract red painting

a poem by the hubber TKIMWRSVC

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Point towards the sky, etched varnish showing a tattered and shredded factor to it

allowing all possibility, contained within the speed it is encompassed in

Splotch of smeared forever, tainted with the soot of the factories laboring to remain open in spite of reality

A dream that has gone sour, still it persists aching and tearing into the soft lining. Warmth sliding down the slope and into the lap of today

Be Bold She Said

a poem by the hubber TKIMWRSVC

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Be Bold she said, as she waited meekly in line

Be Bold she said, as she waited and watched life pass her by

Be Bold she said, as the seasons spin in the endless cycle of yesterday into today into tomorrow and so on

be bold, she said, as time marched onward

be bold, she said, as her back hunched over further and further

no longer does she admonish me to be bold. Age has caught up and I have watched her life slip out of her own fingers, and into memory alone

Be Bold, I have not told my children, but I mean to someday

Open

a Poem by the Hubber TKIMWRSVC

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It lies there, the soul, laid open and made bare

A work of love, or labor, brought into existence via the expediance of the tips of the fingers

Something to be proud of, to protect, an essential element of yourself

Till it is reviewed and your chest is torn open

ripped apart in scathing ridicule

demeaning, so some functionary somewhere

feels good for causing pain

opened heart laid barren 

Cold

A Poem by the Hubber TKIMWRSVC

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cold, stark white expanse of intimidation

Haunting memories of what was planned

yet could not be achieved

the ache of winter held within fingertips

not a manifestation

of what could be

instead a dream laid to waste

icy cold grib tormented by

the heat burning inside pounding, pulling, striving to be free of

the encrusted ground of regrets

not putting pen to paper

so cold

Day 15: The printing press and how it destroyed/created the world

This Hub is presented to you by TadK who is Hubbing under the name TKIMWRSVC. All elements are copyright © 2008 / 2009 and licensed under the Creative Commons License.

If this Hub interested you consider creating your own Hub.