Tag: poetry
group name: articleadoption
|
July 10, 2007 05:26 PM EDT --
So you all know what spam is (not the canned meat which is Spam) -- you may not know that some spam defeats spam filters by using images, and/or using words in the subject line and content that spam filters . . . more
|
|
September 05, 2008 11:08 AM EDT --
Rainbow ( a rainbow competetion writing)
( to Alison on the move)
"Sublime, see mom!"
A passage is moving backward
at a speed of seventy miles,
an . . . more
|
|
June 07, 2008 09:13 AM EDT --
No words exchanged
No greetings uttered
No faces remembered
Just the smell
Smell of cologne
Strong, Manly
Yet sweet, loving
Memories, scents
Priceless.
Worth a thousand words
more
|
|
July 13, 2008 07:52 AM EDT --
Lead a fishbowl life
Comings, Goings, Life all seen
Fake smiles abound
more
|
|
July 16, 2008 02:21 AM EDT --
(A poem, kinda - more like lyrics. It would be a song if I could write music)
Take this place in which
we exist, but fear living.
Call it anything but beautiful.
The sun will rise and set. . . . more
|
|
August 10, 2008 12:47 AM EDT --
Yesterday, I knew this girl
who wore 'tragicly hip' as an accessory
to thrift store jeans
and manufactured angst
she drowned her happiness in bottles
then peeled the labels back
. . . more
|
|
August 29, 2008 10:19 AM EDT --
= cherry red color prompt( to sherrie)
[Cherry red is her backyard.
Flowers and fruits.
Bottles filled with preserves.
An old goose pecking at
some wasted fruits.
Look . . . more
|
|
June 27, 2008 09:00 AM EDT --
Basking in the sun
Wanting warmth like a lizard
Love these sunny days.
more
|
|
May 05, 2008 10:52 PM EDT --
My kids are grown
they ask for money
they don't understand
the land of milk and honey
I work and work
each day I grind
to make the cheese
to ease the mind
nickles and dimes
I'll . . . more
|
|
March 18, 2008 01:55 PM EDT --
Throbbing twilight
---------------------------------------
A throb is coming alive,
It faces the cracked mirror,
And dares the reflection.
Jaded image speaks the tongue
Of an alien . . . more
|
|
May 03, 2008 11:38 PM EDT --
Teopan is an island located in Lago Coatepeque in the Coatepeque municipality.
I would love to go to Teopan .
Sampan is a Chinese boat.
I would love to ride on a Sampan . . . more
|
|
August 27, 2007 12:00 AM EDT --
Never project emotion.
They will only mistake
anger for arrogance
tears for weakness
If you show fear
they will strike.
Smile. Smile. Smile.
Shake hands.
Make eye contact. . . . more
|
|
August 05, 2008 09:44 AM EDT --
g un
Pa! Will you bring a gun for me?
He feels a shiver but smiles all the same.
A gun in a childish dream is not what
it makes him think. Or is it some inner
. . . more
|
|
March 22, 2008 12:08 AM EDT --
The closed doors.
The closed doors look at his back.
You know they are insignificant!
He will not look back to see nameplates.
The sky welcomes a new wonderer,
A fellow of its eternity! . . . more
|
|
March 25, 2008 11:22 AM EDT --
He has no calendar
His cheap cigar burns to suppress smells.
A moment of respite and a strike
To light up the smokes from a death-stick.
Now a young sun leans on blue terrace. . . . more
|
|
March 26, 2008 10:46 AM EDT --
To the psychiatrist
---------------------------------------------------
Tell her who is resting on your couch,
A cliché we live
Spread amid the movements of planets, . . . more
|
|
March 30, 2008 06:26 AM EDT --
Insecurity
The bike and its rounds,
Everyday at this time,
The sound like a child
Whining in insecurity.
Air fiddles with her hair who
Stands at the balcony.
From there the . . . more
|
|
February 29, 2008 09:49 AM EST --
Tears of an angel
------..--------
Winding up his wings
He sits on the steep end of the temple
The angel.
Down there people,
People touching
The marvels of ancient . . . more
|
|
March 02, 2008 04:01 AM EST --
A kitty named "Zelda"
Her paws, soft, are upon fallen gold
Of rustling foliage. Cold sundown
Turns around to a shadowy cottage.
A cottage with a coach and love-strokes
On . . . more
|
|
March 08, 2008 01:02 AM EST --
They arrested pa!
The storm on the northern sky
He eyes the yellow painted door,
Fingers quivered on touch of
The ancient woods and red bricks.
The crisscross of the net . . . more
|
|
|
|
