Best 100 Poems

I made for you, a castle
but I built it in the sand
I steadfastly tried
to constrain the tide
but the bastions didn't stand

I planned for you, an...

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if I had all the money that I ever wanted,
               ...

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Oceana

Oceana flings her sequined petticoats
Upon the sands as if to toss the seaweed 
From the swirling edges
While she dances with the wind
With each turn she...

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Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the Soup bowl,
Not a poet was writing, not even the musing mole.
All their pens were hung by...

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Fading sun elaborates
Tuscan yellow tinges
As vibrancy floats
Lavender on periwinkle
Embossing clouds 
In shades of amethyst

Granting scenic vision
Atop the red bridge
Suspended in perpetuity
From vermilion towers
In resplendent posture

Sounding...

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If I could give you a rose for everyone you touched, you would have a garden
of roses.
If there was a person's name that represented Kindness...

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My eyes,
you traced the beauty of nature.
The starry sky and inky ocean,
smile of winter in the heavenly garden,
dancing of waterfall on the lap of hill
and...

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You look at me so uninviting;
I may have some missing teeth, stumble when I walk, bout' to FALL!!!
Stutter when I talk, but yet I'll still...

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As this week closes into hours of pewter night
may the moonlight touch your lips while
I sleep in the arms of dreams unrefined.
Though I may not...

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The powder of white sand holds her flesh
close to his musk pelvis
as she gasps with the murmured waves
trembling on the coast
of a fragrant mouth against...

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Come to the
River
Of my 
Soulful
Sentiments

Meandering silently
Yearning for release.

Hasten
Earnestly
As my love flows by
Rushing through the flood-gates
To your heart.
  
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Contest: 100 in a...

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I remember living quietly inside these red brick walls,
a soul, wandering alone through those dark, empty halls,
this is the place where I used to rest...

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I am standing outside my bedroom, on the precipice of lost innocence.
Wide eyed, and barefoot on cold hardwood.
Someone is hammering on our front door.
My father,...

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Reaching for your hand 
but knowing you have gone
I hear the birds begin to sing
their early morning song
Yearning for to stroke again 
your shiny chemo...

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A Look Back at Eighteen Months Here-The Show is Over

When your poems reside in a shoe,
like mine,
pounding the pavement to nowhere.
The onset of blisters isn't...

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