• THE STORM’S EYES

    Tornado you seek
    The darkness
    I feel weak ..
    The skies in complete blackness
    Your power I’ll see all week.

    Clouds move like spilled ink
    On a grey canvas
    That I left to streak
    Brushing with slugs
    As an artist, you can’t peek.

    My art smears as the storm claims
    Bold dark colors
    Watch how it fades
    I’m happy…Read More

    Profile PhotoProfile PhotoProfile Photo +1 liked this
  • almost

    I was gonna jump
    but I needed someone to watch
    so I waited
    and while waitin
    the moment passed
    and I forgot why I climbed
    so I came back down
    quieter than I went up

    Profile PhotoProfile PhotoProfile Photo +1 liked this
  • Profile Photo
    National Poetry Month
    Public Group
    28 Members
    Profile PhotoProfile Photo liked this
  • The Tenth Muse Speaks: Whispers Across Lesbos

    She walks on the edge of the wind,
    voice braided with sea and olive,
    each syllable a spark struck
    from the tinder of longing.

    Island-born, where the waves fold
    like a lover’s arm,
    she counts the pulses of hearts
    as though each beat were a star.

    You burn me
    my limbs betray m…Read More

    Profile PhotoProfile PhotoProfile Photo +1 liked this
    2 Comments
    • Curly Grace, what a great opening line: “She walks on the edge of the wind”. While I enjoyed reading the entirety of your poem, that last verse will be remembered by me. Poets, poetry, should never be “contained” or constrained. -Curt

      • Thank you, Curt. That means a lot. I’m glad those lines stayed with you. And I agree… poetry needs room to breathe.

  • Sensory Memories

    “why are you so addicted to popcorn?”

    because on Saturday evenings…
    when I was small…
    (too young to know of more exciting things…
    like theaters and urban adventures)
    there was a table that became an arena

    where board games and Uno took over
    and we gathered as a family…
    no chores…
    otherwise idle…Read More

    Profile PhotoProfile PhotoProfile Photo +2 liked this
    4 Comments
    • Aw, I can smell the corn popping from here – a really atmospheric poem.

      • Thank you 😊 I make popcorn every week, never recapture those moments but it brings back the memories

    • Willow, I make the popcorn the same way your grandmother did, 3 quart pot, melt the butter and mix. But I must confess, the popcorn goes in a big bowl and I eat it all from there. Thanks for sharing the popcorn….er… I mean the poem. ;0) -Curt

      • There were a minimum of a dozen of us at that table. There would have been no room for a big bowl. I’ve never seen a bowl the size she used for the popcorn since then. I use an air popper but yes, it goes in a bowl and it’s all mine too. 😊

  • Load More Posts

My Friends

Profile Photo
NAVINA
@nancy-rdz-stories
Profile Photo
PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos)
@pauloacacioramos
Profile Photo
Harriet-Jacqui xx
@bedtimestories
Profile Photo
twofiftythree
@ambjr
Profile Photo
Curly Grace
@curlygrace

Groups

My Recent Posts

LOVE SONNET LXXXIII

Colorful Reality

Location

PENNSYLVANIA, USA

New Report

Close