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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  11/28/2014 7:08:25 PM
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Circles Around

Until the end comes to me
I will rise or go low
Wings are set out for free
Onward in the drifting flow
Content has no comparison yet
All is just inside going
We have no moments met
From the distance growing

Floating and splashing too
Billowing to the shore
Footsteps following the true
Always for more and more
The yesterdays we let go
Giving the hills we found
Moods coming fast or slow
Nothing to nowhere bound

What we will say or hear
Is never completely done
Eternals are always near
Nothing of the past is gone
We shall not learn it now
What has been always there?
But thoughts come somehow
From circles around to steer
Peter S. Quinn



Circling Around

Circling around the city
Every day to somewhere
Up and down - the streets ditty
Blowing whistles here and there!
Coming back to and fro
Something new on the horizon
Tripping high on the go
Carrying life just on and on
Dreams flowing through air
Finding ways to give its taste
With their trams in each fare
As the instances are spaced

Time for joy to give and make
Each new street has a smile
Uplifting or still to wake
That could be a waiting while
Here I come with my load
Going to my lives about
Ahead window’s an open road
With its objects and doubt
We are in the same street tram
Wondering on and drifting
Carried together in the jam
At times it gets quite uplifting
Peter S. Quinn



Circling Way - Dark

I have dreamt of a circling way,
When winter in darkish mood plays;
The flowers had fallen to earth,
To regenerate seed's new birth.
And a sleep is a way of time,
With passionate desire prime;
The landscape of cloudy curves,
Grow inside to my aura's nerves.

Days have become like night,
Sweet roses are nowhere at sight;
The odd and dim here all around,
Gone are the desires of fire's found.
The world is changing in and out,
With shallowness of the lonely about;
Rough as a flint is now my tongue,
Daydreams in everything I'd long.

Undulate each way and each step,
Moments of memories now into hep;
Crazy I am going out of this fall,
Winter of boreal making its call.
Fly fly away to the relentless heart,
Give me the instants of a flying start;
Concernment dying into the dark,
Another day perhaps again it'll spark.
Peter S. Quinn



Cleaving Stones (a song)

I've never lost in my way
And always said the best I can
Love is something in the play
With the strictures of the ban
Rising high or below its turn
To be there for everyone
To bring forward lets learn
And you shall know how it’s done

Cleaving stones of many more
With thoughts that break tides
Flowing strictures on its core
With each gesture that abides
Now is night of easy going
Stillness wind in somber while
Onward strictures easy knowing
Each in that and this new style

I've never given up my try
Finding always something still
Easy comes and reaching high
If our dreams it shall fulfill
There are times that go nowhere
Only to be here still on
But I want to take them there
Carry their roads and be done
Peter S. Quinn
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn