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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  9/21/2014 3:04:21 AM
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  PETER S. QUINN
 
 
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  3997.     

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
   
 

   
   
 

  3998.     

Time Will Come and They'll Glow

Time will come and they'll glow
But yesterdays are gone somehow
Like a lovely dream down the row
That billowed a while to and fro

There is so much from day to day
That isn't completely forgotten
And as the memories to us play
Scattered times again are plottin’

The wind's gay’s sometimes blowing
Through time that has just gone by
As each hour's still with us growing
The old and forgotten away will fly

Realms of tomorrow are built on this
And woven around our innermost desire
Fading radiance and a gleaming bliss
That catches our dreams in their fire

Thousands of bright through the dim
In forms of visions so much untold
Playful beaming thoughts of whim
That no one can warp around or hold

This and more of a yesterday's dream
Bringing on a while vision of its light
Glow of its moments like fairies seem
Going away into the forgotten night
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  3999.     

Timeless Charters

We are taking every dream
Making something of their worth
Filling woes of their stream
Illusion behind every birth
Far too late of remembrance
Like glimpse in starry sky
Behind walls of resemblance
Reasons coming to ask why

Moods of truth in transition
Like roses red in tonight
World we know in partition
Within everything quite slight
Somewhere to be in its between
Undertaking the mind illusions
What is here and can't be seen
In its ways and transfusions

Holding there of what to make
Finding it within its doubt
Leaves and fruits - its mandrake
Growing seeds - thoughts in sprout
Every theme to make a change
From its hoops and garters
Schemes of benefit to rearrange
From its timeless charters
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  4000.     

Times - Some of Memory (from The Lost Sonnets)

To all the moody of gone yesterdays
Comes another deep spinning around dreams
In their colorful of yearning's ashtrays
Where still everything in closeness seems
Where my heart’s in a beat with reality
Walking in moments of happiness going
Of summer set mornings so carelessly
And opportunity in each part showing

Where the yesterdays were still of tomorrow
And their ways had their smiling on faces
The beats of time were never in borrow
Or a step into its times tied laces

Those times are now some of memory
Falling apart by the days going on free
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn