Middle path

 The world is divided, in pains and strife,

And fractured our people’s lives throughout,

In despair, agony and fear they survive,

Through the grimes of everyday life.

A false sense of belonging they seek,

And the dichotomy is stark and brazen,

Minds are open no more to change,

And rigid thoughts are bound to chains.

We know not how to listen and share,

Just want to be heard and not spoken back.

With every extreme left there is a far right,

And we know not  how to bridge the divide.

Is it so difficult to listen to the other side,

And slide the egotist behind.

It is only then we will begin to see the light by the blithe,

And talk to one another in cold retreat.

You may be surprised to note the middle path,

In all the extremities of the northern and southern divide. 

Here's a cleaner version of your poem, with a focus on tightening language and improving rhythm while preserving the themes of division, struggle, and the need for open dialogue:

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**The World Divided**

The world is torn by pain and strife,  

Fractured are our people's lives,  

In despair, agony, and fear, they survive,  

Trudging through the grime of daily life.  

A false sense of belonging they seek,  

The divide so stark, so brazen,  

Minds no longer open to change,  

Rigid thoughts are bound in chains.  

We no longer know how to listen or share,  

We seek only to be heard, not to care.  

For every extreme left, there’s a far right,  

And we cannot bridge this widening divide.  

Is it so hard to hear the other side,  

And set the egoed self aside?  

Only then can we begin to see the light,  

And speak to one another without the fight.  

You may be surprised to find the middle path,  

In the extremities of north and south's wrath.  

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This version smooths the flow, tightens the language, and improves the clarity of the themes. The poem now emphasizes the need for understanding and finding balance between extremes. What do you think?

Prayer for the soul

As I travel through the world,

Seeking to find meaning and essence in what I do, feel and think,

I can’t help but sense a feeling of helplessness and guilt in the monotony of my existence. 

There is an emptiness that  I seek to fill,

A void that I long to replenish.

And I know not what it is I am longing for and what path I seek to take,

Atleast I know for now that I am a lost soul looking for refuge,

And hope to find my answers in the living deluge,

My start Is here and this is where I will begin,

And define my path to discovery, mirth and living. 

Here’s a cleaned-up version of your poem, refining the language and flow while retaining its introspective tone:

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**A Lost Soul Seeking**

As I travel through the world,  

Searching for meaning in all I do, feel, and think,  

I can’t help but sense a quiet helplessness  

And a guilt that lingers in the monotony of my existence.  

There is an emptiness I long to fill,  

A void I seek to replenish,  

But I know not what it is I truly desire,  

Nor which path I am meant to follow.  

For now, I am a lost soul, searching for refuge,  

Hoping to find my answers in this living deluge.  

My journey begins here, in this very moment,  

As I strive to define my path to discovery, joy, and life.  

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This version tightens the language, simplifies some phrasing, and improves the overall flow while maintaining the poem's reflective nature. Let me know if this works for you!

My babes

Sprawling green lawns,
submerged in sugary dew,
makes for a surreptitious escapade,
In the morning hues.
Basking in the sun as it emerges from the blues,
I catch the split splat of my daughters shoes,
Splashing the mud as she rushes by,
I see the sun light in her eyes.
My heart is pounding at this mere sight,
And I begin my writing in sheer surprise,
I am videographing this time and day,
Screening for every laugh and play,
"Animals" she screams in her powerful voice,
And I just smile giddy inside my mind.
Watching her wild and free flight,
I can only pray for some respite,
Today a little girl in my life,
And tomorrow a rambunctious woman in sight.
I capture that image in my lens,
And set her free from all sentience.

Captured Moments

Sprawling green lawns,
Drenched in sugary dew,
A secret escape in the morning’s hue.
Basking in the sun as it rises from the blue,
I catch the split-splat of my daughter's shoes,
Splashing mud as she rushes by,
I see the sunlight dancing in her eyes.

My heart pounds at this simple sight,
And I begin my writing, caught by surprise.
I’m filming this moment, this time, this day,
Capturing every laugh and every play.
"Animals!" she screams in her powerful voice,
And inside, I smile, filled with quiet joy.

Watching her wild and free in flight,
I can only pray for some respite.
Today, a little girl, full of life,
Tomorrow, a woman, bold and bright.
I capture that image, frozen in my lens,
And set her free, beyond all sense.

Capturing a Moment

Sprawling green lawns,
Drenched in morning dew,
Set the stage for a secret escape,
In the soft hues of the dawn.

Basking in the sun as it rises from the blues,
I catch the split splat of my daughter’s shoes,
Splashing through the mud as she rushes by,
The sunlight sparkling in her eyes.

My heart pounds at the sight of her,
And I begin to write in quiet surprise,
Videographing this time, this day,
Screening every laugh, every playful sway.

"Animals!" she screams in her powerful voice,
And I can’t help but smile, giddy inside.
Watching her wild, free spirit take flight,
I pray for just a moment’s respite.

Today, she’s a little girl in my life,
But tomorrow, she’ll be a rambunctious woman in sight.
I capture that image through my lens,
And let her go, setting her free from all sense.

Writers block

Haven’t rhymed a rhyme in years,
Yet it seems it’s been by design,
All these years creeping by without sign,
Just when it seemed like an end in sight,
My babes triggered a dynamite,
It’s the poetry month.. they yelped in might,
And here I felt ignited.
A passion for words that was all mine,
Alas lost but not forgotten,
I need to reinvigorate those fleeing thoughts,
And connect my soul with my mind,
I will regain my voice again,
And find my deliverance in my poetry once again.

Here’s a cleaned-up version of your poem, with attention to rhythm and clarity while keeping the original sentiments intact:

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**Reigniting the Flame**

I haven’t rhymed a verse in years,  

Yet somehow, it seems by design,  

All these years creeping by, without a sign.  

Just when it seemed an end was near,  

My babes sparked the fuse—loud and clear,  

"It's poetry month!" they cheered with might,  

And suddenly, I felt ignited.  

A passion for words that was once mine,  

Lost, but never forgotten in time.  

I must revive those fleeting thoughts,  

And reconnect my soul with my mind.  

I will regain my voice, once more,  

And find my deliverance in poetry's core.  

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This version improves the flow and maintains the themes of rediscovering a lost passion and reclaiming creative expression. What do you think of this revision?

Spring day

A bright blue spring day,
Fills my senses with mighty gay,
As the breeze razes up my day,
I storm around in my brazen ways,
Loosing myself in the curvy by lanes,
I discover the mushy greens of the inland ways.
And swaying to the wind swept flumes,
I dance to my looney tunes,
drinking in the morning dew,
I sing the blues.
The air is crip and clear,
Alas I feel free as a deer,
Beautiful and alive the world seems,
With endless promises  and surprises indeed,
Smiles galore I swing jauntily,
And meet my day incredulously.

Vagaries of nature

Strange are these vagaries of nature,

Quirky yet absolute in stature,

Sometimes benign in their appearance,

and deadly to the point of significance,

I cannot find measure in everything seen and felt,

And I find myself loosing sense in the present,

If only there was a definition of consequence,

That would lead me to the prism of deliverance,

Standing in the midst of the nature's storm,

I hope to lean towards the greater calm,

Looking into ocean of existentialism,
I finally see meaning in the realism,
For as strange as these vagaries of nature may seem,
There always is meaning in their seeming inevitability.

Here’s a cleaner version of your poem, with a focus on sharpening the language and flow while preserving its philosophical reflections:

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**The Vagaries of Nature**

Strange are the vagaries of nature,  

Quirky, yet absolute in their stature.  

Sometimes benign in their appearance,  

And deadly in their quiet significance.  

I cannot find measure in all I see and feel,  

And often lose my sense of the present.  

If only there were a definition of consequence,  

That could lead me to a prism of deliverance.  

Standing amidst nature's storm,  

I long to lean toward the greater calm.  

Gazing into the ocean of existentialism,  

I finally see meaning in realism.  

For as strange as these vagaries may seem,  

There’s always meaning in their inevitable stream.  

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Friends in arms

Caught in the legions of adverse reality,
Lived two friends in utmost harmony,
Even as their lives intertwined in the muck,
They smiled in unison for their gain,
Never did one turn his back on the other,
And never did life tear them apart,
As they looked in unison at the road ahead,
It looked circuitous and perilously charred,
Should they take a leap and forge ahead,
Or just wait for the roads to clear up ahead,
As they looked at one another in tepid uncertainity,
They vowed to follow the sinuous course,
let the paths unravel itself they said to one another,
And stepped blindly into the precipice,
Lit up solely by faith in one another.
Trusting If they fell between the cracks,
They would emerge with the help of the other half,
There wouldn't be one without the other,
And so be it the end or the beginning,
For friends in arms they were always born to be.

Here’s a cleaner, more polished version of your poem, with attention to flow and clarity while preserving the themes of friendship, trust, and shared journey:

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**Friends in Arms**

Caught in the legions of harsh reality,  

Two friends lived in utmost harmony.  

Even as their lives tangled in the muck,  

They smiled together, knowing their shared luck.  

Never did one turn his back on the other,  

And life never tore them apart.  

As they gazed ahead at the road unknown,  

It seemed circuitous, and perilously grown.  

Should they take a leap and forge ahead,  

Or wait for the path to clear instead?  

In tepid uncertainty, they met each other's gaze,  

Vowing to follow the sinuous maze.  

"Let the paths unravel themselves," they said,  

And stepped blindly into the precipice ahead,  

Lit only by the faith they shared in one another,  

Trusting that if they fell, they'd rise with the other.  

There would be no one without the other,  

Whether it be the end or a new beginning.  

For friends in arms, they were always destined to be,  

Bound by loyalty, forever free.  

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