For promises that grow In marshes, To a pristine river to flow, Such are the ones We hope to believe, To drown in, of disbelief, Deep below. There prevails the dawn Hope To herald a dusk Of darkness beyond, A whisper from therein, “Rise, wise; arise,” Look for a promise, In the dead of the […]
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On this day in 1950, Ben Hogan won the Unted States Open in a three-way playoff. What made it almost miraculous was that Hogan had suffered multiple injuries sixteen months earlier when a Greyhound bus swerved out of its lane and hit Hogan’s car head on. Hogan, attempting to shield his wife, Valerie, from the…
Geese were flying south for the winter. honking along the way, promising to return again someday. The post Geese Headed South | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
Since Way Back When Way back in the last century in 1992 when I was a mere 50 I slipped in between the clean sheets of my bed and sighed: Thank you, thank you. As I always do, so grateful to not be sleeping in the back seat of my ’56 Pontiac on Mount Ranier…
Never missing an opportunity to poke fun inflate ego rant, rave, ridicule pretend to stand a little taller Grabbing the club resorting to violence when a kind word a meditative thought would do quite nicely instead. The post Crudus Brutus | JD DeHart appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
Missed the game until the top of the eighth at the Knickerbocker the sound off the TV I ordered a vesper and a burger and the Mets fan on my left, a chess instructor, filled me in, and when the game ended I wandered over to the piano where Ehud played Kern (“The Last Time…
Can’t seem to feel Am I a spider Am I a lie Can’t seem to dream Without the frills I need the pills Can’t seem to hide Can’t seem to move Am I a fraud Can’t seem to care Am I illusion Am I real or a nightmare They came by car They came by…
