The Poet and the Interviewer
My mouth seeded with your sperm, I talked back to the interviewer. It may also be this way with God. Approach with a mouthful of stones; you will be mute. But speak semen & seed & the words will flow. Is heaven a television show? Ever
a coat of paint?
lives bundled in boxes/ melodies of memories chime/ Dear Poet, Where do I begin? Now, moving in, cartons on the floor, the radio playing to bare walls, picture hooks left abandoned in the unsoiled squares where Monet's hung pro
A Sea of Tears!
Pondering
#1 Songs 1969-1989
My birthday is coming up so I was looking back from my birth in 1969 to the end of my favorite decade of music, the 80's. The only song I'm not a fan of is The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. If I were forced to pick my favorite from the list it would be When Doves Cry by Prince, with Every Breath You Take by The Police being a close second. Right now my favorite album is Weird Al's new album Mandatory Fun. He is a parody artist and I own all 14 of his albums.
Conversation with a Dead Poet
Can you believe your death gave birth to me? Live or die, you said insistently. you chose the second & the first chose me. I mourn you. Is love the sugarcoated poison that gets us in the end? We spoke of men as often as poems, We
Waterfall of Words
My soul quickly tarries, spirit uneasy in sleep, and stilled pen rest crooked upon the desk, there is silence in the resounding echoes of the memories becoming grotesque. Yet upon the days birth I do wander, fields of earthly scents confuse,
Tundra
Black ship of night sailing through the world & the moon an orange slice tangy to the teeth of lovers who lie under it, sucking it. somewhere there are palm trees, somewhere the sea bluely gathers itself up & lets itself fall again into
Dead Poets Never Die
The skin of the sea has nothing to tell me I see her diving down into herself, past the bell-shaped jelly fish who toll for no one & meaning to come back In London, in the damp of a London morning, I see her sitting folding & unfolding
collections
You hold on to your possesions You hold them dear They belong to you You throw nothing away house becomes fuller No more space is left There they gather your dust Your dust You cannot move From all your collectioning Every nook a
Being Irish in America
Thinking about my heritage and how I wish I were in the UK! Ireland, Scotland...England (it's complicated) . . .that's where my heart is! So many poets here from my ancestors home! It makes me feel warm!
Literary Remains
Mr. Keats, "I find that I cannot exist without poetry....." "What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth....." "We hate poetry that has a design upon us......" "Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one
Morel Hunting
I love morels, a lot!
Cupcakes
I went to Fennimore, Wisconsin for garage sales and found a nice bakery.
In Memory
In Memory I awaken at the first break of morning light that chases moon and stars in daily flight, I see the dawn trap a blossom's new day smile and witnessing this, I hesitate awhile. Then as the sun causes my staring to yield I turn to st
The Dove
Here alone in my bed, I lay with thoughts inside my head. Of the day that has just been, and all the things that I have seen. Of each mornings crimson rays, a perfect start to every day, and all the people I’ve met, or those I have not met y
THEY CAME FOR SUPPER
The day has cast shadows that hold no image Out my window I can see them coming Across the bottom land they walk Speaking to me in a language I have heard in my mind sense before my time I tell mother that they are here She smiles and says Supp
why
undecided
LOOK IN MY EYES!
A poem about feelings
Madman Jack
He came riding in, With the setting sun. Out of breath, He was on the run. Tall and handsome, His features built. Pressed with fear, He was loaded to the hilt. Come again, play some more. He`s quick to tell you what`s in store. Live hard, d
I love you silence
Many times silence says all.
Don't punish me
Don't punish me anymore for bad deeds depth of longing hidden desires quiet hopes interrupted by a scream and sweat drops after a crazy touch for a gentle smile stolen fleetingly and moments of silence after the storm broke out closed eye
Train to now where
The wheels turn the noise echos on the tracks voices heard chit a chat music loud deafens ones ears One longs for peace and solitude Destination known One travels to destinations end where one goes one is unknown till one arrives
my life
welcome all corrections....
4 am
It’s 4 am and I’m still not ready to think about you yet. It’s 4 am and my eyes won’t open; my heart won’t close (to you).
flowers
any body have ?
Waiting List
Small explanation: The first and second set of colleges are mostly ones that I looked at, the second set are plausible grad school options for me, the fourth set (all ivies) are long-shot grad school options and Princeton... well... that's my dream school.
need to make trust...
who can forget that moment...?
Sleep
Dream Dream little cerubus As daylight begins to fade Is not the silence Inspired And brings forth all manner of change Sleep Sleep now in quiet The sleep that angels keep As low the moon glows Shining softly Through the glass, its b
A Princess Rests
Written at the time!
The Killing Of A Dove
The Killing Of A Dove Fashioned to enhance all that is beauty in life carved gently by the greatest sculpture’s knife this enigmatic creation draughted from above, this woman prepared softly and made for love. Soon tiptoeing in virtue before s
The Poet Writer
The Poet Writer The poet writer tries to tell his truth to mankind though not from thought yet from his haunting mind. Not in the prose of a story, but remaining within a tale that turned an inner dream into a deadly inward gale. Fed by devils
The Voice
The Voice The crooning on the wireless came when I was a child then forever in my heart the voice was tenderly filed. As my youth grew, a need for the voice grew with me caressing my soul where only devotion could ever be. When first I fell
a hopefull life
no one can avoid waiting ....if yes..there is no life..
All that gleams
All that gleams As the sun sets on the old man’s face He reflects of a different time and place Of mates long gone, forgotten they’re not Some died of misfortune some of them shot When men were plenty and woman were none Saturday night to
floating
I saw a girl the other day her eyes had flash her hair was red my hair is gray feel left out of room to play but the blood flows deep breaths occur, as before memorable sweetness in the air now that spring is here a young man's fancy? I su
Far too hot
one of my first ,not my best, still fond of it
Unforgiven
While morning 's light creeps silently through the ivory curtain, She awakens to the sound of a red winged blackbird, singing a haunting song of promises to come. She reaches over and entwines her fingers through his, and contentedly l
Just a tree
its the first poem ive written. i was bored at home and just had the urge to write something : )
Larne’s Life
Larne’s Life This is the way she was,Loch Larne, Prolifically teemed with fish and vegetation, The air about her abundantly sweet. Bushes and willows animated her wonder, For friendly fishermen to laze around her. The skies and tre
A lost angel....
looking for nectar of love
When u are sad...
When you are sad,think to me When u are sad listen our song Enjoy the words and forget Let u tears to fall down All sadness from u soul. One day u will be happy. When u are sad watch the birds And imagine u can fly to me.
Night
The moon has waxed and waned..... Again and again I watch..... Revolutions through the night sky. Pondering...questioning...crying..laughing... The knowledge is there... Yet, I cannot bring myself to learn....the fear.