Category Archives: Poetry

I Embrace- A Poem

I embrace the green mountain bosoms of the Great Smokies and the calming silence of the lake early mornings, quiet save the splash of a fish in the rising mist, reassuring that after all is said and done, there was … Continue reading

Posted in poem | Tagged | Leave a comment

ADVICE

Dwell not on finding Truth my friend for it shall drive you mad. The eyes that spy the way things are will only leave you sad.   Bedlam is filled with clear-eyed folk whose blinders were shorn away. Unalloyed truth … Continue reading

Posted in Philosophy, poem | Tagged | 2 Comments

IN SEARCH OF A HORSE

      The horse should ideally pull the cart. Agreed? But if the horse is not in sight you’re left with the cart part, and must envision what kind of horse will pull your poem into the light of … Continue reading

Posted in A mixed bag, Bliss, Existential or nonsense, ideas, Let's Preend, poem-ette, Slightly humorous, Writing | Tagged | 6 Comments

Two Animals – a Poem

On a path two interplanetary beings meet: human animal and animal animal.   Is one food for the other? Who will move first, and where?   Whose fear is that in the air? Reason has instinct by the throat, or … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 2 Comments

WORDS, a quadrille for d’Verse

      WORDS My thin black words on this cold white page can’t breathe, won’t bleed, don’t whimper in the dark; impotent fossils, barren husks, dropped spoor. Not the real thing at all, not the rustle in the weeds … Continue reading

Posted in A mixed bag, Poetry | Tagged | 23 Comments

PIFFLE DINGER – An earlier ode

MONDAY NIGHT’S POEM With all the boo boos and yoo hoos, to-do’s, who-are-you’s, e-mail news. Poetry Month and broken hips, cherry blossoms and weather dips, serve up a poem, slightly rare with metaphors, if you should dare. Oh, there’ll be … Continue reading

Posted in poem | Tagged | Leave a comment

Step outside – Reblogged poem

Originally posted on TheFeatheredSleep:
The doctor who is 47 and wears a baseball cap she doesn’t look her age, even her hands are unlined but she knows her stuff, telling me, it’s a virus got into you, maybe by the…

Posted in A mixed bag, Poetry re-blogged | Leave a comment