cinder toast nickle anchor rhubarb baseball fleece pot
The post Hopscotch Post | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry.
Go to Source
Author: Best Poetry Online
cinder toast nickle anchor rhubarb baseball fleece pot
The post Hopscotch Post | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry.
Go to Source
Author: Best Poetry Online
(How the day went from the blissful early morning to sweeping sunset, without pause or patter, without sugar or smoke, without the benefit of a sudden departure from the script.) We boarded the caravan some little time ago One door each way Frosted glass panels Dim light from outside Illuminating the drab nylon covers On…
I look at you palely, perhaps amused. Is this you? I see you’ve got a new coat Not the very one you brought, years ago When you converted Timi and your brother Edisemi turning a house against itself Afterwards, you offered a meal porridge it was a political scheme therein the earlier sentiments stepped in…
In huts boiled rice a family sits with expectation especially the children tearing scraps of paper biting, eating and a country moves on with railway tracks and trains entering passengers witness to seething darkness it does not matter what you eat it matters why you eat as economists and sociologists define the poverty of experience…
My heart I stand alone in the dark night I gaze at the stars My heart so tranquil and blue The post I Stand Alone | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetry
When thunderheads spiral into space, then a wild drome Is nailed inside a church-chidden city To move, a masking venus will suck naves from Bound devils and angelled sleep Trilled trees dip laxative leaves inside a berried grave And starry silver men scatter a swelled sun Against luminaries and liquid statues? More at https://jimbellamy.simplesite.com. The…