delicate buds - pinks, reds, oranges - my back strains with the effort heat, humidity, fires in the sky Toss in the wind—rack up the muttering sky.* *A Thunderstorm by Archibald Lampman Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight #411- Host…
i would find youbetween sun-dried flowersspent, tongue rolled backfrom screaming at the topof your lungshoping to get my attentionforgive meif i am waddling these dayswith my head buriedin numbersi miss seeing youin colorful shirts & hatspe…
was clear line of my bellyfilled with salt & seashellsholes, much like my memoriesfading away, a ship in fogwas bed of drowned summersplated in orange light,i should have said some thingslet the tower fall & shatter to ashwas illusion of ca…
let the tower fall & shatter to ash a skeleton, whose bones i still Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thank you for your comments and visits. bathed in memories of tulips & blue irises gusts & thunderstorms peek from sleep delir…
i.spring hides from the window the fog is a filmin noirbathed in memories of tulips & blue irises(no birds in sight)ii.gusts & thunderstormsare the weatherheavy-lidded eyespeek from sleep delirium & then lapse (a fallen feather) iii.the tre…
your hands were warm, as were your letters against my cold touchi did not know spring then - nor the weight of long winter this i now know:my heart leapt at the sound of your voice,that old memories rushed back like gentle tides returning t…
Why are your words creased in moon’s indigo carbon copy, a blue my eyes cannot hold? Why are my morning legs ice-struck at dawn, yet lift like pollen when you place flowers in my hands? Why does this story tugs at my ribs toward opposite ti…
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. I love how it slowly shifted into that world of dreaming and left me wondering if it was a dream to start. The dream world you build is magnificent and…
i take out my fishing rod & reel and cast the line over the lake stones, sands, pebbles, low tide crackles, bouts of silence, birdsongs, sweat and i reel in the line to look at my catch robust, unpretentious, glorious lens of the uncertaint…
i take out my fishing rod & reel and cast the line over the lake stones, sands, pebbles, low tide crackles, bouts of silence, birdsongs, sweat and i reel in the line to look at my catch robust, unpretentious, glorious lens of the uncertaint…
be joy-struck, bicolored musings of sky and see different shades of color i do not pretend to be colorblind your story is different from mine but it is the same ocean tides that powers your lungs & mine to go out it was sticky with colorful…
yet your face is moody spring, unkempt yearning for moon's kiss & blues observe the shedding of olive skin obtuse as words you scrawled on walls offer sage leaves & feathers, & spin oats & seeds, the wild voice calls begin each day with ten…