Category: poem
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Running Club
in poemTry as I might,Always in flight,Things seem to be.Things seem to flee,As I draw near,It is quite queer.But as I run,So does the sun,So, it seems to me,I have company!
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The Photograph
in poemI really do not know what made it art.Was it her eyes, which could see past my soul;Or how she stood, splitting the light apart?Perhaps it was not one thing but the whole;The way she seems naked while fully clothed;How she performed actions while standing still,Like changing what you loved and what you loathed.Was it…
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Common Gems
in poemHad I, by context or constitution,A rainbow’s color or a star’s shiningI could maybe make some contributionMore than shared sweet dreams and words of pining.But having only a wealth of soul, ICan merely give you my poor thoughts and hopes,And share with you the bounty of the sky -Twinkling stars, the splintered suns’ golden ropes.I…
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Portrait of a Women
in poemShe lay there – not naked, not clothed, asleep;My eyes drew – tracing, retracing, her form.There was a sheet through which I tried to peepWhich to her edges strictly did conform.Parts of her body I boldly etched -Her bosom, her face, her midriff, her waistSome other parts were very faintly sketched -Her ears, her arms…
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Surmising Sensibilities Sentiment Semantics
in poem“S” Study Sanguine soliloquies, silently sung,Sound smitten sentiments. Such sweetness seeksSome sonant string, symphonically strung,So soft songs silenced, subsequently speak.Subdued sonority, sensed, shifts steps. SprySoles safeguard sounded sensibility,Serenely synchronizing stirrings. SlyShoes skip, slide, spin, seeking stability.Subsultory scribes saccharine scripts soSmooth serenades secure speech. Such scores sketchSublime scenes, sculpting spelled sensation. SlowSet statements soon spark skill’s…
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The Keepers and the Keep
in poemBeneath those wild waves, in that savage sea,The humble beasts explore the briny deep,And sing a subtle song, a melody,To that grand blue expanse they love and keep.To such song azure waves dance on the shore,The waves of sound thus causing waves their own;So the sea, through dance, sings its noted score,To those who’ve kept…
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The Muse
in poemShe still visits me, unexpectedlyA windy whisper, corner of my eyeSometimes I wait for her, dejectedlyRecalling when I had her on standby.I’ve wondered where it all bubbles up fromWhose mouth it is I’m really speaking withThose depths – myself; the words – I’ve tried to plumbFruitlessly separating pit from pithWhat has been lost in age,…
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Too Sweet
in poemI’ve supped the nectar, treated with the treats -Sugars and syrups leaving me unfilled.My palate needs a darker palette now;Some minor keys to give the body soul.Give me a sour marinade for my meatsSome seasoning before the gristle’s grilledSimmer me in spices that will endowMy person with pluck, some grit in my bowl.In all the…