Marathoners are running the race And each ends last anyways Like they would have if they Ran against time without complain Poetry is no minute thing A clock ticks with options at hand Write poems or knead dough for a bun Write anyways For this…
Category: Miscellaneous
yearning for you
poem #2 yearning for you we reached for the paper cup at the same time our hands slightly brushing against each other nicely apologizing I noticed your full smile right away smooth brown skin and full lips and I smiled too then several minutes later…
Prompt #2: Yearning Jan Rog
At five, “A shepherdess” I told him For the tender lamb of my bedtime poem, The freedom of the meadows and valleys, The gentle pace and active, hard work. At fifteen, “An actress” I replied For the thrill of self-discovery and My commanding voice…
Missouri (poem 2)
Sing night’s green murmur, rainfall rattle on rooftops and throb of thunder, cloud-silhouette moon adrift in dappled wrack of rushing stars and cornfields whisper: endless Missouri
Yearning
Yearning: Poem 2 To yearn ; the longing for Our deepest desires to be seen, To be accepted and loved To have the world not mean. Yearning and longing for love Truth and respect, In a world more filled With greed and neglect. Parents…
Cries in the night
Cries in the Night A guttural howl Echoes in the soundless night Breaking into song. A car revs crunching Our dreams and peaceful sleep Blood covers the ground. A moment can change A mood can alter instantly Life is unpredictable. Gunshots. Bullets. Death. Life ends…
Pain
The wind rustled her hair as she walked along the shore. Her smile hid the fact that inside her raged a war. She walked to and fro, moving along with the tide. The sounds of the ocean helped heal the pain inside. She stopped for…
1- Forgetful
Running passed my house Racing down the street Forgot to tie my shoe lace I trip over my own feet It’s a lovely Friday night So much of the town to see Forgot my wallet at home My friend had to pay for me…
libra
we lose nothing by loving the weight of a heart the fragility of a feather both can be a hundred pounds depending on the handful regardless of how our mind weaves regret if we hold steady we lose nothing