Best Disconcerted Poems

Caress the aching tears of 'morrows
it rains in regret's remembrances,
sustained of sand-like grit 'tween frothy
mimsy and mayhem endeavoring to
rise above the fray within prayer's favor...

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?The day my Silver lining vanished away?

I was traumatized, 
After walking through the bedroom door.


No movement, or sign,
Not one single breath left behind, 
the canvas...

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Fingers toy with my nearly worn out bank card.
Not too confident, I hold onto my nerves, hard.
Ahead, petty items in her trolley hold me slowed.
The...

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Golden Locks

within the minute of retreat your back is tuned to your enemy's chorus
harmonic to your freedom, measured by compassion, anxiously seeking their humanity
thought ascending...

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Sitting having coffee at the classy Brassiere
Everyone is laughing, and they’re speaking niceties
Isn’t it lovely just to sit and chitter chat
Instead of being me in...

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I feel the familiar burn of abandonment
A feeling that anyone sane would resent
And yet I bask in it—the disconcerted lament

Angrily I tear at the seas...

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Hear a babe in his crib who is wailing,
left there with a rash that’s got infected
From hours of sobbing, his voice is trailing . ....

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~~~
Soft graceful effortless magnificence
From sweeping preambles omnipresence
O’er marine moistening proclamations
Tides flowing distanced admirations
Warm simple potency unprotected
Leads ancient seafarers disconcerted
To destine improvements phenomenon
Place complete peacefulness comprehension
~~~
©2014...

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I'm in charge here 
I am your chieftain.....your Lord and Master              ...

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Random happenings of life
get out of record just as quick. 
They may sustain however, to boost
our own morals in some tranquil moment, especially
when such incidents...

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The air is still
A feel of freshness is about
After a short sharp shower
Smell of grass and plants are overcoming

It is an old cemetery
Headstones all askew
Some...

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Cried she concealingly in her heart,
felt lone and heavy,
disconcerted she was from her graceless life ,
Waited for the support of someone's hand,
and his courteous voice.

Shoddy...

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I ask him his favorite color.
Mine is blue.
He tells me, "Black."
I must have looked disconcerted,
Because he hastens to explain-
Not for a morbid reason...
He just likes...

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We were taught 
that to be qu**r
means to be strange,
to be unlike the rest,
to be different, 
but not in a way that would raise surprised...

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I’m stuck.
My mouth tries to speak my thoughts.
My creative process is buried in the muck. 
My tongue is in tangled up knots.
I long so terribly...

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