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Pictorial Definitions

Updated on October 07, 2009

Pictorial Definitions.

. ©_MFB III

My life is a pickle each daily slice
tangy and sweet
but sometimes it can turn
suddenly sour..... puckering up my lips
and my heart.

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Drawn from where fate
preserves all sorrows
in the jar of
bitter circumstances,
nevertheless I savor the
flavour of both
while breathing in
all the monotonous tasteless
breaths that stretch before me.

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( ( ( ( ( ( O ) ) ) ) ) )

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Love is a steamroller
bringing all that is

seperate tightly together
smoothing out all the bumps
and the pitfalls
in the road of life.

<>
Merging two lanes
that will travel together
side by side
down joyous paths.

<> 
Love rolls over you
erasing all doubt
that stands in its way
leaving a steaming
expanse of warmth
behind it. 
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Death is an exclamation point,
a period that lies under
a large vertical marker,
much in the same way
that you will lie
under a large vertical
marker over the period
that marks the end
of your sentence
in this life,
<>
Birth is a portal
a doorway of flesh
opened only a few centimeters
allowing you to squeeze out
then it closes behind you forevermore.

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It is the only door
you can never re-enter
yet it clings to you upon your leaving
with a long cord to sustain you
until it too is severed.
<>
Courage is honorable insanity
driven by adrenaline and impulse.

<>
The mind ignores all normal hesitations
and jumps headlong into the improbable
the impossible...without any thought
of self preservation.

<>
A form of attempted suicide
with a twist,
for if you live you will be
looked upon with favour
and if you die

you will be revered.

<> 
Peace is the total abscence of fear
thus the impossibility of achieving it
in this life looms large
for who is without fear? 

 <>
Poetry is a rollercoaster
where on you ride the peaks
and the valleys
of your emotions.

<>
It's a ride shared with others
some enjoy the trip
flinging their arms up in delight,
while others fail to grasp clinging
fearfully to each page,
afraid of misinterperting your thoughts.

<>
Sometimes a poems words come fast
rushing down in a long sweeping flow,
othertimes they go clickety-clack
clickety clack up a dreaded
hill of uncertianity.

 <>
But at the end of each ride
you rush back
to jump in on some more lines
and take the thrill
of riding/writing the tracks over
the pages again.


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