Best Crinkling Poems

Standing all alone in the woods;
eyes shut, I feel the lilting light.
Sun dodges needles through the crown,
beams land on my skin softly so.
Brisk breezes quicken and rustle.
Bristlecone pines ever sway slowly,
while pockets of air blush my cheeks.
Staying stalwart in meditation,
cones crinkling as puffs roll them
gently...

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Forth from the heaven, from the misty moorlands of all sacred woodland greens,
drop by drop by striking the pebbles and untouched vegetations oozes, 
the intoning hallowed water of evergreen woods' crystal cascades, brooks and streams.
to adduce the onus lies on doomed humanity to be the...

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"You are ... different, aren't you?" she said, crinkling her nose.

That sentiment, spoken by my fourth grade home-room teacher
Had been paraphrased many times before
(And would be countless times again)
Different, unusual, odd, weird, curious, complex, or just plain strange

Those were the kind ones - the ones...

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The kitchen radio rumbles heavy drumbeat,

outside, rain pecks out its staccato

on the porch.

Stirring fragrant coffee,

I ponder doing dishes, starting laundry,

pause to glance at him.

Across from me,

his eye-crinkling smile

liquefies all my resolve.

Oh, listen

to that insistent rain

ans heartbeats drumming....

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I came out screaming from the womb
No I am not a malcontent, I innocent
Was slapped upon my nakedness. Gloom
Was the first thing I grasp, a dissident
             Wet and squirming in ackward light
 ...

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Cicada shells that sticky hands attach

to dirtied shirts

 

Humid evenings echo with jovial screams

and patient parents calling curfew

 

Morning dew and the crinkling of autumn

leaves on foot to school

 

Soon, blizzards bring free days for slippery sleigh rides

and endless sweet cocoa

 

The melting icicles mean...

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Once again mankind hopes and gathers  
Looking towards sunlight after the worse of days
But now released mankind laughs and sings
The young dance
The old with crinkling wrinkles smile
Yet sleep does not come easily
 For the old have seen during the years 
 Uncertainty created ...

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 it's quiet on the lake right now
sun sliding down from it's perch
as I watch with mixed feelings
from a pew in nature's church

enjoying the paint splashed sky
reflected across water's mirror
content smile crinkling my face
for a moment thoughts clearer

before memories drop blinders
overtop my respite briefly won
causing...

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I am not all happiness.
I am not as bitter as your smile
and I have no lips to make me sense -
to curve around my name and give
me more depth than the air,
than the dust I rise from
like the moon, night after night
chasing sunlight across the...

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These rustling humans, how they jabber!
With their smudged and crinkling ink dabber

I lie here resting while their investing
Their moments in this blabbered pestering

I've seen their pages scribbled in rages
Of inspiration by their sages

I hear the parchment, crisp and crackling,
Depicting marks pronounced in cackling

And wheezes of...

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Kit

Before I opened the carton,
   I’d chose the name Kit,
      Thinking of strong Wild West women.

Our little girl, Gigi, ran to my bedside, barking
   Excitedly, “A present?  Aaarrr-ooo!  For me, mamma?
   ...

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1

i plucked a string;
it rang through me
like a hook through
a fish.

i was hooked on
the fine 
craftsmanship;
the way the wood
was cut.

i was convinced
that the hollow
inside contained
a million dreams.

if i could only 
reach them.


2

christmas came
in a whorl-wind
of crinkling paper
and tinsel.
i opened one
of my presents
to find a guitar;
it...

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Memories of you talking,
Simply talking to me,
About your day,
About a new song you heard lately,
About how you like worn out jeans,
And how you fangirl over John Mayer.

Memories of you smiling, 
That smile with your eyes,
Crinkling up,
Creasing,
Happiness.

Memories of looking for that flower from Italy.
Turning on the...

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A ringing bell in the near-distance makes her delicate body tremble, as she sat on the corner of the opaquely purple stained living room sofa. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. She grew in despair of how that pattern of sound had aroused the tiny hairs on...

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These 2 different versions are separated by nine years

Part 1

MUST BE SPRING

Small speckles of wild grass 
Looking like tiny green drops 
That had fallen to the earth 
Were the very first sign 

Waving in the breeze 
With their feathery tops rippling 
They slowly reached for...

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