RSS Feed

Give Moments



Wander lust, I heard it once named, 

when young, seeking some adventure. 

Driving long, never tired or shamed, 

our next quest inside apertures. 


Give attention’s apprehension 

that folds into stipulation. 

Give moments in precious time 

building hope from sacred design. 


Tired eyes, holding all close at hand, 

and dreaming of worlds left to drive, 

you laugh as though watching time’s sands 

fall down through sieves, or stand to dive. 


Give sighs of pure designation, 

figuring in those temptations. 

Give moments of admiration, 

while I smile my simulations. 


You smile, chuckling at moving time, 

as though a game performed in keys 

musical in sacred scores rhymed 

or motioning to god a plea. 


Give moments to view creation 

now wasted in hesitation. 

Give segments of infinity 

wallowing in serenity. 


Show me love, my simplicity 

adheres to all life’s small meanings. 

For our blink of humanity 

is but a creator’s teasings. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Show Me



Bring me on a trip around the world. 

Play musical concerts, not absurd. 

Sing songs to show your adoration, 

rising sweetly through contemplation. 


Show me, love me, and adore me more, 

screaming and breathing musical scores. 

Show me, know me, and building it more, 

when it secretly hides what’s in store. 


Take my mind now to dizzying heights. 

Sort out these shadows to know what’s right. 

Write sonnets and songs in temptation, 

implying goals as tribulations. 


Show me, see me, and complete me now, 

promising the same for you somehow. 

Show me, feel me, and fulfill me now; 

magic ignites, not now disavowed. 


Live with me in splendid, blissful time. 

Travel rivers on Puget Sound’s dime. 

Since I have you alone for my design, 

sail to Seattle’s internal rhyme. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Grab Lilies

Speed Star 1.1464373  00



Drop lines, if you know verses; 

fill thoughts as though viewed converse. 

Travel inside time and place, 

giving your word for some space. 

Would you enhance your world scene 

that pilfers dreams most obscene? 


Grab lilies beyond your scope 

that escaped your telescope. 

Grab daisies and daffodils, 

drooping on your window sill. 

Grab lilies pink and orange, 

posing inside lost knowledge. 


Decide if you’re impulsive, 

and not at all repulsive. 

Journey throughout consciousness 

wishing life holds conciseness. 

Should you strip independence 

which stifles cognizance? 


Grab lilies, smelling the scents 

of bright flowers heaven-sent. 

Grab roses and carnations 

freezing time for temptations. 

Grab lilies a second more; 

don’t trip going out the door. 


Stop an instant, drawing near. 

Hold me close; don’t disappear. 

Transit between awareness, 

willing loving, happiness. 

Will you find reality 

just another fantasy? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Fear Not



Paint the world in acrylic moments, 

whimsically styled animations. 

Dream seconds and minutes adamant, 

through water based lily sensations. 

Would you fall into blissful trappings 

that border tempting geo mappings? 


Fear not, my gentle companion 

that strokes laden brushes on canvas.

Fear not, willful imagination 

who builds mountains of blatant status. 

Portraits hang with sad indignation 

as viewers clap with speculation. 


Draw pastel poses on paper plaques, 

wishfully composed while proposing. 

Straying in thoughtful, smearing, attacks, 

artists display open for closings. 

Should you visualize and create 

sanctuary harboring harsh fates? 


Fear not, sincere euphoric ally 

who abides without harmful shackles. 

Fear not, chalk virtuoso on high 

with cloud-like images that crackle. 

Models depict representations 

portraying lifetimes inside stations. 


Sculpt pottery and prim statuettes, 

firing kilns in glass-like poetry.

Fill vessels with daydreaming messes 

amid trinkets building jewelry. 

Can you truly reach serenity 

while living cheaply ordinary? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Among Monsters

Speed Star 1.1375470  00


Iridescent jewels painted blue 

inside eyes every, icy hue. 

Changing moments hideously stark 

mythology crawls from shadows dark. 


Among monsters spanning eons’ time, 

imagination crops  through designs. 

Among monsters borne barren deserts, 

shifting sands providing safe shelters. 


Shapeshifters dance under moonlit skies, 

silver myths plotting their own demise. 

Howling, prowling, and hunting werewolves, 

begin cycles camping along gulfs. 


Life borders daydreams among monsters, 

not needing cops, robbers, or mobsters. 

Stories camp among monsters’ delights, 

human tragedy holding on tight. 


Vampires alive and dead, in between 

life-lines rended at pale, drawn, in-seams. 

Soul, life-force, and blood suckers alike, 

take and don’t give, I’ve grown to dislike. 


Living among monsters entirely, 

brings on disdain with society. 

My life among these nasty monsters, 

proves humanity needs be conquered. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Magic Drifts



Scintillating and captivating, 

rocks glimmer in summer’s dying heat. 

Blues reflected from skies still reigning 

light composed of laughter and heartbeats. 

Would I remain in perfect twilight, 

while happiness empties filling life? 


Magic drifts along inside moments 

where promise fulfills desire’s lone need. 

Through sunsets together less solvent 

heroes elude and villains pay heed. 

Magic drifts in minds losing sanity, 

smiling imprisons this qualities. 


Quantitative and masticated, 

rock sounds in eclipsing emotions. 

Pinks compared and impersonated, 

pigments paling in lieu of notions.

Could I retain those abstract pictures,

which fade between tea leaves and tinctures? 


Magic drifts in wheezes and breezes,

when elements conspire completely. 

Through hallways, illusion still freezes 

with intended contracts and treaties. 

Magic drifts on currents of oxygen 

posing itself inside helium. 


Dazzling and twinkling iridescence 

rocks me gently along momentum. 

Green forests hum in opalescence, 

fractal designs flow out dimensions. 

Will I restrain my impulsiveness, 

that births singular uniqueness? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015




Distant sunrises dazzle lenses, 

as flowers appear before our eyes. 

Laughing whimsy along park benches 

flowers pop-up into snapping views. 

Do you miss their freshness, sparkling days 

rising before tulips for sun’s rays? 


Crumpled and complete in abandon 

daffodils bloom, no companions. 

Crumpled and downtrodden within weeks, 

thriving blossoms bowing, sadly meek. 


Billowing clouds white as crisp cotton, 

and drifting idly along streams, 

distant daydreams all but forgotten. 

Florets burst from impossible seams. 

Do you long for beauty standards 

that grow and complete life unhampered? 


Crumpled edges unfurling renowned 

without fairies or butterflies drowned. 

Crumpled symmetry and quaint allure; 

nature knows this, rest alone, assured. 


Stepping along the cobbled pathway, 

stardom pretends paragon clusters. 

Attention draws towards dim gateways, 

spilling adoration and muster. 

Would you fill my emerald glass vase 

with those daffodils; hurry post-haste? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Kyleen McHenry's blog

This site is the bee's knees

Hope Russell Nunki


Swimming Lake Ullswater

An Arts Swimming Project Supported by V.A.R.C (Visual Arts in Rural Communities)

miss juliet poe's emporium

personal blog of writer, small business owner & coffee drinker kay-leigh bain

A Love Like No Other

Erotic Romance Writer

Theresa Seanchaí

Author of the Fantastic.


Questions, comments, and anything in between.

Freelance Wanderer

The Earth underneath my feet never stops moving...


Witty Written Works

the poet's billow

a resource for moving poetry

Karens Corner

vampires, ghosts, demons and murder


Just A Little Orchid, Blooming Away

Shawn The Writer

If I touch your soul, I touch your soul.

Second in Rome

Pursuing greatness in the arts, the body, and the mind (in a highly pretentious fashion).

O at the Edges

Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.

Write me a book, John!

All things books, all the time


A writing site

sheila sea

like thalassic velvet


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 286 other followers

%d bloggers like this: