Tagged: poem 11
The Train-car
I touch the walls of this old wooden train-car. My hand feeling first the roughness of wood from another time and place. My feet standing where others from stories past once also stood that...
Watching Too
Freestyle Poems Late into the night it watches me doing my necessary duties, complaining on the phone, reading in bed, setting my alarms, making preparations for the coming tomorrow, like an estranged lover...
Contemplations for a Sparrow
I have some contemplations for a sparrow When you perch Wrap your claws around Do not flap your wings Perch The wind will rustle the leaves And you may judge yourself clinging But in...
The Vision
My hands turned into a million White butterflies Rushing to the moon Where am I going? To the drops and the whispers To the winds and the tops To the shortness of life Filled...
Write Like Glen Duncan
Let me write like Glen Duncan. I would top every Christmas list And prayer, Send it seaward in bottles and Skyward on doves If I thought it would make it one iota more likely....
Don’t Forget
Sap at just about every turn leaves a man feeling crash “turn” meaning the phrases avoided on the way to the fridge he calls his bar the shot of water in a half-broken glass...
Diary from an Empire (III)
14.08.21 Bombs dropped elsewhere — in the empire I awake to this benefit. 14.08.22 whenever I drive a humanist loses hope at least a little 14.09.30 Punish the arena owners severely! Imperial citizens should...
