Best Basements Poems

This is just for fun..=)




In the basement of my heart
there is a basement
and in that basement there are two basements. 

You open one
and enter the...

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Let me be the first 
 to have the audacity to translate, 
This piece of mystery molded 
       ...

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Poem 1: A Boy And His Painted Piano

he used lively greens
tender blues,
touches of plain mauve 
and rainbow trout splatters
to paint music
on the gas fumes 
that...

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Wanting to shrug off this shell, break loose from me
Silence that damn hermit, hiccuping under his tree
Trapped inside too long, dormancy dreams to wake 
Disgorging...

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i tried to notice without noticing.
i tried to fit in by not standing out,
but i knew i was different.
their walls much bigger.
their yards much nicer.

in...

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Some have passion and
Dreams in their hearts
That weave in and out
Beyond the edges
Of small places
Their dreams may be only words to some
But to them they...

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Oh my soul what hails you?
Oh my soul what awaits you?
Oh my soul why are you in despair?
Oh my soul I have not deserted you
Oh...

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Your journey was long
Here you shall find respite
Come one and all
Have you enjoyed your trip?
We shall trip you here for sure
Holding babies you stumble and...

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Lost souls deepen black holes…
Broken cries…muted forever lies back and forth on ya mind…
Tears of peroxide burns your polluted dilated eyes…
True hermit of life…no one...

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Submitted for contest:  A Child's Home
 adventure, candy, childhood, city, fear, first love, freedom,
Memoirs Of Being A Child At Home





Memoirs Of Being A Child...

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Voices of creation speak Type A and Type B,
and polyglot dialects through Z, 
somehow under what lies in shadow
from B through Z,
anyway, Type A conscious...

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Beatnik Snaps
       Onomatopoeia-topia

(poet sits on a stool in the café and begins)
I could onomatopoeia all day daddio
With cool sounds...

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I am house shopping
with the required Buyer's Agent,
also a fairly tolerant friend of mine.

She likes to drive
although not gifted with any sense of direction,
until we...

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My muse went on vacation, to the tropics it did go.
I wish I could go with it, but my boss told me no.
I’m afraid it...

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Punk is not dead. It was never alive.
We stitched it together from mangled parts
with contents we poured from inconstant hearts
in our basements during bleak nights.
Finding...

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