My name is Kenroy Freckleton and this is a place for my poetry. Your feedback is not mandatory nor is it necessary but it is still appreciated. The sole purpose of this page is to continue to pursue my writing hobby. Some of the poems that will be posted to this particular page will also be available on other platforms.
A change of scenery in the morning
resulted in a new perspective
a humming vent is still
persistent as the echo is amplified
Beauty is a rare occurrence in
such a place. A late evening voice,
turned a sullen face into a beam
such brief moments come
and go in the wind.
Momentary distractions fade
and the regularly scheduled charade
ensue, freedom is literally
at my fingertips and even the
distant banter will eventually
run its course.
Promises were left by
hanging by a thread,
on days when life would
require a stationary bed.
Traffic crawled by
at a snail's pace
all things were gloomy
except her face.
Aloofness paid the
pavement a short visit up was a
a crisp dry wind turned
my fingers to frozen digits.
The aroma of dark roast
was more than prevalent
her eyes were everything
except vacant.
And even the sidewalk
was a dangling tightrope
her eyes analyze my smile
like a microscope.
Honking horns echo
in the morning fog
and at some point will
transcend to lingering smog.
As peacoats sway in
the variable wind,
our eyes met and
a friendship found kindle.
The silhouette of a bird on the
window sill is paired with chirping.
The radiant morning
sun is impairing to the vision as
the days crawl toward the edge of dusk.
Provisional blindness sharpens the
other senses and regrets fade
as nostalgia enhances the mood.
Warmth is forever enduring
even where there is metal.
The days fade and the obscurity
of the night is in a race against time
while in search of substance as
a cycle travels in a
circle only to meet its sudden demise.
The sky is a multi-layered shroud.
Thick blankets of gray, slowly
drift in the wind as the faint light
of a late morning searches for a
place to make its presence known.
I can see the barren lifelessness
surrounding as my eyes peek
through a tiny hole in the window.
Faucets still run in the background
and they help to occupy the silence.
Yet, I find everything beyond
the gates, enchanting as I daydream
about what it is like for birds of
prey on days when there
is a variable wind.
You are a beautiful and delicate
flower of a particular genus
that thrives in the warmth of summer.
Your nectar
makes you a siren that has
attracted many suitors to gorge until full.
While escaping your lair, I was smitten….
obsession is prevalent in a stare.
The epitome of every hue….shades of pink
damp like the morning dew but
possessed with the snugness of a warm deluge.
Affinity is more than just uncommon
in the midst of a taste test.
A fragrance that is truly particular
is lingering like a shroud.
Innocence is more than just a way
to describe your bloom that is brought
up by a late afternoon. There is definitely
more to the presence of your vibrancy.
And I can’t help but mourn as
you slowly fade away and
wither in silence.
The consistent chatter serves as
a distraction between meals.
As the evening travels on a safe
journey through time, voices
echo between each cell.
The darkness of a late evening,
descends like a mysterious phantom
that is on the prowl in search of
something that is quite elusive.
Renditions of daily routines
serve the purpose of extending the
monotony. The noise from next door
occupies the moments when thoughts fade.
A shadow descends from a ceiling
as I am watched by mysterious eyes,
a suspended camera is the spectator
as gentle knocks ricochet.
The solitude of an empty
night, is revisited in the morning,
in the blink of one weary eye,
I awake from the depths of snoring.
Rarely is hope found in a damp
old cell in the heat of a summer night.
Yet freedom comes to those that are numb,
victory is nigh.
These precious moments armeE ass see s je still a gift
in the midst of exploring….while half awake
while in a dream, while meandering
in the morning.
I walk around in circles,
waiting for the dawn to come while nervous, hungry, lonely, drifting….
Conversations with the darkness were void of replies
questions from miles away were on damp and shriveled feet.
Train tracks occupy broken, blank minds.
I am waiting for the ground to dry
on marble tile in a waiting room by
a parking lot filled with talking birds as bread bags fly in the sky.
Dying palm trees play in a band
with the sunrise as a special guest.
Butterflies play in miniature
forests am I'mid o I'm ofgiant footsteps,
engulfed by the breeze
that is as faint as a fading promise
while on a tour to bid us farewell.
a flat thin mattress and even the tiny ridges
on the wall beg for freedom.
A change of scenery in the morning resulted in a new perspective a humming vent is still persistent as the echo is amplified Beauty is a rar...