No poetry today No lyrical musings on life's quandaries No alliteration or clever meter No inspiration demanding to be heard Begging, Pleading for release Just a blank page disappearing With a click and a clack A snap and a tap
Tag: poets
Sometimes
Sometimes the Strong need the reassurance the arms to see them through Someone to take the burden Just for a little while.. just for a little while Someone to come to the rescue just once, just once or maybe just one more time.
Shoes
Piles of soles some with laces other just slipped off pushed off to the side cast away waiting for their vessels who shuffled away long ago Piles of souls left wondering why
Poetry & Process
I am not sure how other poets write or what compels to write poetry versus prose. What I do know is that virtual all everything I write begins with a line or a partial line. Sometimes images accompany the words. My latest poem - We are ... began in such a way. A good …
We are…..
We are all too old for bullshit No matter what the calendar reads We are all to old for excuses No matter what the secrets be We are all too old For holidng back When desire calls for fear of losing that which is already gone
Scrabble Queen
Scrabble Cerebral, Dexterous Spelling, Counting, Forming, Scheming Increases brain-power secretly through play Laughing, Connecting, Playing, Believing Proficient, Verbose Scrabble Queen
Quietly Imaging
Quietly imaging Everything denied By time and distance Cuddling in the memories of moments long past. Warmth fills me And I feel where Love’s bittersweet arrow struck In dreams, you stand beside me Loneliness can not touch What love has so bound. Where you go my heart is condemned to follow.
An Ending Curse
May unhappiness breed is your evil heart May mirror always show your true face May you came to know the evil you’ve done All this I wish for you Your betrayal of love shall be forgiven Once the price has been met.
Being
I am an imperfect being . Swift to anger ..Slow to forget Passionate about oddities .others disdain Unable to gasp fully . hate, ignorance and foolish pride. Yet guilty of them all Blessed and Cursed I live my life Walking between reality and dreams Content to be an imperfect being.
Lucinda Rose 