Tag: prose
group name: poetspassion
|
July 17, 2007 05:09 PM EDT --
I’ve mown down the weeds or should I say
The brown patches of parched grass
That have so ill spoken of the sun’s rays.
The downtrodden perennials once having proudly displayed
Nature’s . . . more
|
|
May 19, 2007 09:10 PM EDT --
To put behind our differences and get on with the business of our marriage;
Was it when the cat died and we reft into two, the summer you left for the mountains to a cabin by yourself, in search of something . . . more
|
|
July 21, 2007 12:31 PM EDT --
This poem is based on true events reported in a local newspaper.
She loved him so much
She shot him twice
Left him once
For dead
In love’s name
Anyhow, he lived, somehow
Her guilt drove . . . more
|
|
July 12, 2007 01:48 PM EDT --
I am a stranger in the land of my ancestors
Born here and kidnapped from there
Living among stooped refugees from hope’s borderland
Who forlornly grasp risen possibilities barren as Golgotha . . . more
|
|
October 31, 2007 12:38 PM EDT --
Forgive me father, for I am sin.
Bartemaus:
I remember once, of a time long, long ago, before my birth. It was a time of hardship, a time of strife. That time was called The Awakening. . . . more
|
|
January 06, 2007 10:36 PM EST --
What happened to the youthful days
when bedtime meant falling onto the sheets
in the wee hours of the morning,
mascara streaks across the pillowcase,
too tired to wash face
after dancing and . . . more
|
|
September 26, 2007 08:57 PM EDT --
Even that, Fabrizio’s would have recorded.
Florinda’s real love, documenting her all-too human condition,
Florinda standing in the glass anteroom of the museum,
breasts straining against the . . . more
|
|
December 05, 2007 07:49 AM EST --
Promises can take concrete meanings or entirely abstract ones. I rarely write the way I did here. I am trying different forms of writings. Please do feel free to tell me your opinions.
. . . more
|
|
September 10, 2007 03:41 PM EDT --
BEDROOM
in the brevity of this room
where we last were we,
before the searing darkness
of dead stars burned
these holes in my heart –
before the sadness of trees
in the middle days of . . . more
|
|
May 18, 2007 12:34 AM EDT --
Mary rolls her trash down the driveway alone now that Nolo has died; decades of Saturday night dancing, summer swims and afternoon tennis are behind her; these days, ladies come to lunch or she flies to . . . more
|
|
September 04, 2007 12:34 PM EDT --
Welcome all ~The Poetry Review~ members and anyone who should find this poem.
Autumn Breezes (A to Z)
Autumn breezes change
direction even flirting
gliding heavenward impishly . . . more
|
|
October 24, 2007 05:37 PM EDT --
We had safely landed, but I really did not know how, so I looked out the window and said, 'Holy purple cow!' The woman closest to me asked me if I was from India, then said, 'My name's . . . more
|
|
October 30, 2007 02:14 PM EDT --
The English language, not surprisingly, is rife with terms coined at sea. The British Isles, after all, are islands and the residents of those island travelled the oceans far and wide. Many of the common . . . more
|
|
September 21, 2007 07:12 AM EDT --
Words are like harpoons. Once they go in, they are very hard to pull out.
-Fred Hoyle
Words are alive; cut them and they bleed.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
It's a good thing to be a student of . . . more
|
|
July 05, 2008 10:40 PM EDT --
The quiet engulfs me like a blanket, wrapping around my ears and calming my soul
as i pull the blanket into me closer I realize that quiet is never truly quiet
the sounds in the night . . . more
|
|
July 12, 2007 11:44 PM EDT --
She danced away from his eyes when she spoke
Of the green and deep serenity of Vietnam
Because his eyes filled with body bags
And miles of discarded limbs and lives for Sam.
His eyes burned circles . . . more
|
|
March 10, 2007 12:11 AM EST --
This does not come from my personal experience, but it is my way of reflecting the thoughts and experiences of someone very dear to my heart.
I find myself on my hands and knees,
disoriented . . . more
|
|
April 20, 2007 08:46 PM EDT --
i want you to read me
poetry
you can watch my toes
curl
as flames
lick
from your skull
volts
zingingggggggg
this canvas
melting hues
a thousand gales
could not breathe
L I F . . . more
|
|
November 14, 2006 10:21 PM EST --
Hot metal shatters a broken man,
Ripping through the gray fog and pink life
In the vacuum, memories and pain are
swallowed
Hole
more
|
|
August 11, 2007 12:35 PM EDT --
The lunch bell’s vibrato scream startles him back…
Back from the world where an equation equals the sum of its parts
He grabs his brown paper sack and heads for the stairs
Clutching . . . more
|
|
|
|
