Best All Thumbs Poems

The End

Seeing through these cold dead eyes now,
This world looks much different.

The scars of one’s life entire,
Appear now for all to see.

What once meant everything,
Really...

Read more of this work...

When I was a little girl, Granddad and I spent many summer evenings together sipping lemonade and swinging back and forth on his vintage metal...

Read more of this work...

Perhaps in a row they sit on their chair.
At their small object they all like to stare.
In an upside down world, the room’s silence grows.
They...

Read more of this work...

When morning breaks in shades of wine...
  with claret skies to blush the dawn...
     I will stretch and yawn, and...

Read more of this work...

Poor Little Boy Lost plays a game of peekaboo
Pretending everything in his world is well
Spoiled was his plan for organizing a coup
and now he hopes...

Read more of this work...

Awaking blithe each morning,
with eyes upon the World,
I wonder, are we mourning
with ebon flags unfurled –
or are they but a warning,
some draped like snakes and...

Read more of this work...

Your strongest day is standing
just outside your door. Let it in.

Each day the sun comes home to you 
it whispers with the wind
calling out your...

Read more of this work...

The name's Ike.
Some a ya might a met me before,
in my very first write,
and knew me as the stalker with the walker.
"Retired Romance" was the...

Read more of this work...

1.
they say everything here is
somewhere in the middle of the road
where names get bleached and keys forget about their doors
and there is something we should...

Read more of this work...

I would practice each day without satisfaction,
longing to capture the moon's oratory.
DeBussy, God, help me, I should say that I'm sorry!
Though my fingers were nimble,...

Read more of this work...

Old John's birthday was approaching, he'd be seventy two
And his family asked him nicely what he'd like to  do
"Do you fancy a nice picnic...

Read more of this work...

I raise my voice and rage a fight
for little children trashed and thrown.
Sweet little coos and burps never heard,
the printed mittens never sewn.  

These...

Read more of this work...

I have a tree named Lou, a great, spreading beech
the shape of a gigantic pear with the stem upside-down.
I named it Lou so it could...

Read more of this work...

I’m inside the night
Twirling my thumbs
Watching moths 
About my head
Beating soft wings
Against things.

I’m outside the day
Wiping sweat from
The back of my neck
Watching pterodactyls 
Beating their...

Read more of this work...

Cradled by a hammock
with the sun shining in.
Coddled with Summer fun.
Ice cream’s dripping
from a whopping sugar cone.
It’s sweet to do nothing
but tongue the licks
and swing...

Read more of this work...