rock star

standing defiant,

like a rock star,

full of self,

and knowledge,

but a child,

still willing to believe.

Douglas Polk

dizzy

trapped in reality,

the world spins round,

time and space whirling on by,

looking for an escape,

dizzy,

my reality.

Douglas Polk

the look

eyes icy look out on the world,

emotions kept under lock and key,

scars visible,

but yet unseen,

icy eyes look back at me.

Douglas Polk

nest

 nest in the weeds,

hidden away,

a home,

safe and secure,

no,

it is only an illusion.

danger exists all around.

Douglas Polk

new age

the world different from the century before,

yet in ways,

nothing ever changes,

cultures questioned,

and trust a precious commodity.

Douglas Polk

tangled

colors tangled together,

as if it natural to be that way,

completing the page,

part of community,

a picture of harmony.

Douglas Polk

young couple

young couple in love,

wishing for the best,

lessons learned only have way well,

when the beauty goes,

and the love fades,

what is left,

only time will tell.

Douglas Polk

new

flowers finally here,

a time to celebrate,

and savor,

smells and sights,

not seen,

any other time of the year.

Douglas Polk

Pan

a pan,

not named Peter,

or slaying pirates,

nor part of the lost boys clan,

this,

a creature in literature,

or myth,

my memory fails me.

Douglas Polk

the fight

the fight over,

the apology given,

tears shed,

though the problem not solved,

who to wear the pants in the family.

a ball of twine

a ball of twine,

or rubber bands,

tangled together,

a mess,

the idea,

originally thought to be good,

evolves into the usable,

pretty to look at,'

but that is all.

Douglas Polk

music

music come to life,

notes on the lines,

in yellow and red,

blasting to the entire world.

Douglas Polk

Woman

unsure,

she seeks answers,

looking this way,

and that,

mother,

she the giver of life,

if she does not know the answers,

there can be no hope for man,

help her please Lord,

answers we all need.

yellow background

pink and white,

colors of the morning,

not the night,

speak of love,

and emotion,

glorifying our existence,

when in truth,

most lives,

black and gray,

awaiting the darkness.

Douglas Polk

Vincent

a painter of life,

and love,

primeval,

dirty and real,

a genius,

and patron saint of lovers.

Douglas Polk 

spring

the page filled with colors,

the same as spring,

bright hot colors,

colors which make one sing,

happy the winter almost over.

Douglas Polk

triangle

a love triangle,

much worse than a triangle,

obtuse,

or acute,

pain part of the formula,

and heartache.

Douglas Polk

Birds

Birds in a frenzy,

flying in circles,

one crashing into another,

as if there is no escape.

Douglas Polk

purple and blue

brush strokes upon the page,

]colorful and fun,

expressing a joy found deep within,

when the soul sings,

happy songs,

sent from on high.

Douglas Polk

prayers said

prayers for the nations,

said with a broken heart,

wishing changes could be made,

but knowing it is not in his hands,

he a pawn,

only able to pray.

Douglas Polk

Canyons

canyons south of town,

home of man,

through the ages,

beautiful and wild,

a place where thoughts roam free.

Douglas Polk

the survivor

eyes large,

upon the head,

intelligence hinted,

evolved through the struggle,

now ready to take its place among humanity.

Douglas Polk

Symbols

peace and love,

shared with the world,

the prayer of a generation,

now,

old and cynical,

yet the heart still full of hope .

Douglas Polk

the image in red

the image in red,

with a walk like a lady,

erect and yet graceful,

seen in unpainted strokes,

an image incomplete,

and yet whole.

Douglas Polk

red flowers

flowers grow in the garbage,

their scent covered in stench,

yet the beauty easy to see,

the struggle,

and the triumph,

worth the wait.

Douglas Polk

Timid

timid and shy,

a poet's soul,

existing more within,

the outer world ignored,

or feared,

wondering how fate with deal,

with the timid and shy.

Douglas Polk

ghost flight

ghost flight,

aqua blue,

where new live dwells,

good thought with the travelers,

hoping the journey,

one of joy and learning.

Douglas Polk

Robot

cold blue man,

unable to feel,

or think,

able only to live without thinking,

if thoughts would enter the brain,

all would be lost,

a robot in all but the flesh.

Douglas Polk