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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  7/22/2014 4:16:19 AM
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  PETER S. QUINN
 
 
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  3997.     

Time Is Glowing On

Time is glowing on
Through the hours sincere
Morning sun has shone
The evening is now near
Without letup going
Preceding hours before
Every day is flowing
To a greener shore

There’s a big silence
Going here through
When winter’s dance
Dies in spring’s new
Meet of fresh sprouts
From the protected earth
Cleanness without doubts
Every viewings worth

Time’s on going landscape
Greetings from airstreams
Make and giving verve shape
So all terrain newly seems…
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  3998.     

Time Spaces - Sonnet

Time spaces of greenery grass going around
Every day counting clouds in the drifting
Meadows and hill sides all earthly bound
In their tides and river streams shifting
Falling days to evening then to night
Circling motions on the horizon distance
Coming through to the twinkling starry light
With their faraway blue and glowing trance

Crooked branches through all the living on going
Within shadows and brooks of its own time
Every instance of moods in their glowing
That today and the evening shows its prime
Like a photograph always giving more
That comes today or tomorrow might store
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  3999.     

Time That Comes So Easily (From, Dried Flowers)

Time that comes so easily into life,
With the tongue so bitter but always young;
The wheels of the moments man has to strife,
Amenities of all that's here among.
Kisses of now in sand against stillness,
Deeper and drought with trotting for the years;
Mustering flowers yelping to meet fresh,
Upon going what tomorrow appears.
Surmise of shapes that seldomly will start,
Morning in the meeting entomb of odds;
The hidden nests that bewildered the heart,
Sternly moment blossoms ravished strange gauds.
Waves that don't rest but are moving ahead,
All thoughts confounding in the aforesaid.
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  4000.     

Time to Tell The Truth (From Rock Star)

What I can do I can do again
I have a thought in my afterbrain
Roller coaster pain
It's all about a roller coaster pain
All about a roller coaster pain
Running through each stretching vein

Stand up and do you own thing
Bring in the light that we can't hate
Moving with fame trying to sing
Give it your best voting can't wait

The pulses within your heartbeats
What does this all 'perfection' mean
Their meanings and streetwise aesthetes
Where have they before all been

Cover your changes who shall win
There is no room to be here different
Vote for your nearest - hold that linchpin
Your way of thinking - it's own aspirant

Nothing comes in and out easy
There is no room for changing me
All to directions briefly and breezy
What will it be you just wait and see

Cover your changes who shall win
There is no room to be here different
Roll on your weel - hold that linchpin
Your way of thinking - it's own aspirant
Your way of thinking - it's own aspirant

You can't win I'm on my own turf
You can't win I'm on my own turf
You can't win I'm on my own turf
You can't win I'm on my own turf

Cover your changes who shall win
There is no room to be here different
Vote for your nearest - hold that linchpin
Your way of thinking - it's own aspirant
Nothing comes in and out easy
There is no room for changing me
All to directions briefly and breezy
What will it be you just wait and see

Turn around your own fading luck
Get yourself as fast as you can out of here
Don't be the one who's forever stuck
Lost and never again found - going nowhere

Going nowhere, going nowhere
Time to tell the truth - yeah
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Time to tell the truth - yeah

Time to tell the truth - yeah
Time to tell
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn