Best Dearth Poems

Thirsting, thirsting. . . shriveled earth
suffocates in summer’s dearth,
yearns for rain clouds’ forthwith bursting:
Shriveled earth. . . thirsting, thirsting.

Browning, browning in their beds,
flowers parched hang...

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As Joe was biking down the side of the road
He ran across a chap with a dearth of driving skills.  
Or more accurately, the...

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Angels are heavenly beings who minister to our needs we are told.
'Tis said they are celestial spirits with wings who play harps of gold.
But I...

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 In Thrall

I’ve scooped plasma from the sun
To cook meals and heat my bath,
Moved Mount Everest just for fun;
None can ever walk my path.

I’ve had...

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"Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch ,but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same" 

...

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Nothing stirs the blood more than lies


I stand upon sacred ground of honor
Defend the truth with my soul's honest sword
I'll hold character before dishonor
And cut...

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Written: June 26, 2023
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In this vast realm of treacheries untamed,
Where existing accessories are named,
No spry remedies to heal the soul's plight.
We're left to wander through...

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All's not about Darfur
I've seen it, eerie winds
Moonlight through our thatch

We kissed round, one *palmie gourd
Kigali was but a miss
Waist-beads - beats to love

Have you...

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My mind is burning, blazing, turning
With doubts and irrational drivels
My heart is livid and hardened
For it freezes in the potentials of disappointment
Of failure, downfall, and...

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To see earth's face through angels’ eyes
Afloat upon cotton clouds 'neath the skies
And hear noth but the whistling soft winds
Which encircle me like feathered wings

Too...

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I'm but a frail bird tasked to bring hope and spread peace.
How shall I fly high in the sky with such a brittle burden!
My heart...

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Crying in the Rain
Lurking behind the curtain of world war ;
You cheer to a Monday Night Raw;
        ...

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NEW WIZARDS

In legend, gods and wizards roamed the earth
A theatre drawn by magic spell creation
No one dominant in what was real - a dearth
Of fixed...

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My mind is a house with a thousand rooms
That burst at the seams with recollections 
In vain I have tried with a thousand brooms
To sweep...

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