"The Hands of Time"
The times passing by from a minute to an hour,
gathering courage is what people do after they cower.
Whispering to others about false information,
but doesn't connect to the truth for a direct correlation.
People go by suffering from an illness or more,
Time comes in, to present anew which isn't a bore.
Sometimes thinking it can be over in an instant,
but actually lasting for several decades (hmm...) that's maleficent.
With numerous objections with deep mindsets,
coming and going just like trading in bets.
As Time goes on, we will soon be told,
people tend to be sly and rude but underneath, they're actually bold.
Time controls all inside a swift moving sphere,
being the shape of the Earth, but like a movement of a spear.
"The Blue Moon Sensation"
Out of the whole year, there is one day,
where people seem to have the need to speak and say.
Thoughts and emotions flowing in and out,
conversing therapeutic words around and about.
One ear in, one ear out, expressing 'you' only,
saying that you need no one, but feeling lonely.
Asking someone to go on a date for positivity,
seeing that it only added towards yours curiosity.
Feeling like you're entering chambered doors,
just like being trapped inside and out with no one to hear your roars.
Viewing all the actions about your past,
wishing you could control Time, knowing it's your last.
Lights flickered, water poured, darkness scattered,
glass cracked, embers sparked, and minds battered.
Once every blue moon sends combinations,
but once the day ends, it comes with congratulations.
Windy thoughts coming from above,
flying through the clouds such as a dove.
Cold winters chilling to the bones,
polar caps and ice tips are just winter's cones.
Sounds and emotions bouncing off the walls,
waiting on the morning blues to interrupt the echoing calls.
Using the knowledge already gathered at the edge,
falling down into a snowy abyss from a ledge.
Cold-minded ideas flaking off the brain,
shivering for warmth of the body to sustain.
Storing and rationing for the sake of survival,
beginning to view the native mind as a tribal.
On a quest for clearance and understanding,
but can't be too forceful and demanding.
Polar ceramics framed in the lighthouse,
all inhabitants frozen to the bone and quiet as a mouse.
Bio: Hello, my name is Cameron West and I have had a passionate interest in poetry with great creativity ever since I read the graceful poems "John Donne's Statue" by John Peale Bishop and "The Ceiling" by Theodore Roethke as these poems reminded me of quite deep characteristics of my interests. The reason of why I want to submit my poetry to this publication is from the interest of sharing my stored poems to the world to see and for those effected to grasped the ideas I share to them.