Small animals watch
Grass nibs almost pierce the sky
Spring writes poetry
Day 192/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
Small animals watch
Grass nibs almost pierce the sky
Spring writes poetry
Day 192/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
Once candle light dies
Stars are framed by windowpane
Smoke slithers outside
Day 191/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
Spring’s hearty deluge
Brings an earthiness to air
The smell of the rain
Day 190/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
O wise, pearl moon,
guardian of my secrets
or lucky charm?
I carry you with me
pinned to the night’s
mink cloth; its warm wrap
consoles even me,
but I shun its generosity
and compassion – I deserve none.
Let me wallow here in darkness
and wait ’til sunlight for
the chance of forgiveness.
But when the candle idles
and daylight overcomes
dusk, my luck will run out,
so maybe I will keep walking
and blend with the budding pathways
to spring and wait for your return tonight.
Shy little flower
Anemone’s chalk white face
Like pretty Geisha
Day 189/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
Sultry breeze tickles
A still pond’s tranquillity
Shivers down my spine
Day 188/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
The souls of all those aching fools
are mulched with the broken bonds of glory
and cacophony of undeliverable
goods: swept up wings
of beautiful angels or sultry virgins waiting
in paradise for suicides blown to kingdom come –
the only kingdom deep in the depths of righteousness
under ashen beads of sweat.
They cry beneath their toil when all have left
them forgotten in dank, gritted dirt,
Graves roll over like fond heather
when purple prayers are laid to rest
along with all signs of peace.
Time and again they pour themselves
into the ground hoping rotten weeds
will allow them breathing room
‘til their passage, but slithering tongues
try to lick them clean while both crawl
on bellies over and through
withered twig fingers still wedded
to propaganda’s grenades and its rusted
rings. Lifeless, hollow, frigid eyes
desperately seek out the light
among a scurry of morbid shadows.
Cold pitiful screams muffled by cold clay
means in the end, there is no glory
or kingdom, vineyards and exquisite drinks
dripped by virgins in a life ever after – all bets
are off.
A leafless tree sways
Perch for weary travellers
When fingers spread wide
Day 187/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
Like a butterfly
Wisdom will evade capture
if you don’t grasp it
Day 186/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog.
Her skin is fair, lightly freckled and starkly
contrasts her ambiguous demeanour.
I always tip my cap, ‘Good day, Miss,’
but she never casts a glance.
I carry on my way, meandering
deep in wild thoughts that are always
honeysuckle, blue grass, rosehips
and my Miss.
The sun beats down on she and us,
but when my Miss smiles, the heavens open
and it pours, dare I say, it rains tears.
My thinking is, it can not compete
with the lovely lady who does not care
if I live or die, because I know us to be just
a part of my wildest dreams –
the place I go to swiftly as I pass
the dingy, rusted via duct
on my way to work –
I pass that way often, my dreams,
so as not to be seduced by the muggy
waters of brown stench lying along my trail.
Deep down, I think it may just take time.
Today, anyway, I saw a glimmer,
a near warming at the corners of her mouth,
but it could have been the damp, or
maybe, just maybe, as she meanders
to her dress shop,
bypassing her own thoughts and dreams, she is
smiling as she thinks of me.
Maybe.
But, ah, I hear the whistle. Time for work.
Until tomorrow then, Miss.
About my life and everything else 🙌 Inst:@nihilnove
by *paige six
... from a silent space
The Broken Cannot Rise Alone...
A Repository of Discarded Poetry, Story Prompts, and Memories
Barcelona's Multiverse | Art | Culture | Science
Pain goes in, love comes out.
poetry w/teeth
Just wondering at the miracle called LIFE .
River Dixon
poetry by Robert Ford
Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.
In the end all you want is a pen that writes well and a life that you've lived well.
A potpourri of emotions
Poetry and words
A collection of beautiful things and thoughts
Exploring writing and the creative randomness of life. Snapshots of moments.
Poetry
"Not all who wander are lost..."
A Discarded Plant
I am more than breath & bones.
My poetry is my religion.
Poetry, short essays and other work showcased by a Scientist, Philosopher, and Adventurer. Posts on Monday and First Fridays.
Dark Writing and Strange Inspirations
The Little Poetastry; The little stories
Exploring Rhymes, Reasons, and Nuances of Our World
Smidgens
We're all on a road to somewhere.
Provocative poetry and musings on life
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Encouraging animal advocacy and compassion
A wildlife filmmaker in Africa
big book guy
Just another WordPress.com site
At Least Trying Too
Poetry by Mich
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
MarkovichUniverse AT gmail DOT com