Best Grinding Poems

A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted...

Read more of this work...

~writer's notes~

i think out loud
from my fingers to a keyboard 
so forgive me if my speak
is somewhat long winded
if it has swirls and curls
this is...

Read more of this work...

The year has finally yawned and turned       
Upon a half-revealed shoulder.
A vibrancy, intrinsic to a reemerging 
Enforcement of the...

Read more of this work...

Dream-worker 
delves deeply into my dream;

vibrations fondle anticipation
foreplay wakes wide-eyed 
swells of liquid libido quake the rendezvous edge -
a primordial being in his prime
a masculine...

Read more of this work...

 POTD 25 Nov 2020

Manage your Stress … a peeling faded poster boldly declares 
I do get it about advertising campaigns. 
Enough to know that,
‘strategically...

Read more of this work...

In the late 1970s, I was going home on a Friday evening,
and needed a little more fuel in my truck, 
enough to get back to...

Read more of this work...

I laugh out loud
every time I hear a politician say,
that the best way to enrich a black person's life,
is to give them a job
Give them...

Read more of this work...

PERCEPTION

Before the abyss, I had it all
Letting go of all I see
My friend, I hope our time won't end
It took a short time for you...

Read more of this work...

Make no haste,
your work is restless.

Aeon give me pause--
no more ticking
gears grinding
ever towards the
lonely end.

Live the now.
Even Death took
a holiday,
veering briefly from an
eternity of reaping
solitude.

Take...

Read more of this work...

I was caught by a train yesterday

I hear people say
this often in exasperation
exaggerated tones
with over-dramatic groans
as if the train somehow
physically captured them
in its large mechanical...

Read more of this work...

Don’t tell me the moon is shining;
show me the glint of light on broken glass.

Anton Chekhov

the thunderclap
   of breaking pane,
  frightening.
splintered shards...

Read more of this work...

This love, enduring - ballast of the soul
is ever curing, thee to mine, not role,
but a clear stream of commonplace, of knoll,
that not division's grinding...

Read more of this work...

This time around, I will not scatter these grains
to land where the weeds might choke them.
This time around, I will collect these kernels
and take them...

Read more of this work...

Fifty-two words in Inuktitut 
A full deck plus a Joker
That's me

As a bike courier 
Each day's weather
Was a new game to play
Winter storms a sport...

Read more of this work...

Strobe lights loud music
silver glitter balls
reflective tiny stars
dot the dance floor hall.

She was grinding and pumping
body toned tight and fast
she was the centre of attention
her...

Read more of this work...