Best Borne Poems

You are a thorn, borne deep in my heart
   The prick that sticks me with each breath I take
A tether, whether I want...

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have you not heard me?

borne upon the air at dusk, dancing ... I have whispered you in a million voices
    still, you...

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RETREAT TO HEED OUR HONEST DEEDS

Two old oak trees weathered by winds and rain
with fallen leaves, branches and toughened bark
to shield a core of grandeur,...

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oh ...

Gustav, how you pique the senses
          captured passion's plural tenses

lovers twined in percale folds
 ...

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Sonnet I

In realms of emerald hush, where sunlight strains
Through veils of green, a silent throng takes root,
A clovered congregation on the plains,
Their stoic forms a...

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The Farmer and his Corn


Snug and warm beneath the earth
The field awaits the coming birth
It holds the richness that they need
Provides the anchor for the...

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Dearest young leaf,
Why so melancholy?
Thy emerald sheath has not borne Time's folly.

Think not of Autumn's deathly brilliance,
Of colors rich and flaky grounds,
For Thou wilt weep...

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Wondrous poems are melodies
Emancipated from live trees
Freed at last from trunk and limb
Freed at last to sing their hymn
Transplanted in the hearts they've torn
Transplanted by...

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When Do We Start To Live  

Collaboration poem: Space Cadet and Darren White
Voice: Wesley C.


How do I know we’ve lived?
          If you’re...

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Let me own the Night 

Let the others play on bright sun-filled days,
in song and merriment, play on.

Let me own the shadows that seep into...

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POTD 23rd Nov 2023

THE WISH

As the softer rose shades of twilight fades
With a heartfelt gravity, darkness descends
Oblivious to the North winds stinging bite
‘Neath this star-speckled...

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Written: December 16, 2023
                 _____________________________________

I sneak glance at veiled blue.
as...

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Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.

Black woman proud woman
Your...

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My love is like a worker's gloves grown old.
His hands are leather, roughened now with age
and years of work in weather hot and cold,
yet through...

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"Thy Beautiful Heart : The Blue Faery’s Baby"


'Tis brave the heart 
of a lionhearted cub 
When Butterflies 
aren’t pretty
Aren’t all what they seem

Monsters that do...

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