Best Hard Lines Poems

( In recent days The Pope likened the Gaza Strip to a Concentration Camp. ) 

Hard Lines ( The Final Solution ) Forgotten

5 million 933...

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I notice a face with myriad bent distress.
With eyes that include a trace of sadness,
A dreary routine without a success story,
A vivid photo of the...

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A boy lines up plastic soldiers 
In straight rows across his floor.
He knocks them down with callow ease
In a naive game of war.

Far across the...

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The Poem is dedicated to nine innocents who has lost their lives in Israli attak on their 
humanitarian aid. 

Docility, a living destitute of Anthropomorphism.
Recency,...

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My childhood
Limicolous nomic but limpid or propper,
Hard lines limb, non violent and passage stopper,  
Vegetarian, nonchalant, compliance or observant,
Prepotent prepositor, jannock jangler and importunate...

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We’ve seen flowers
Of all colours
Flowers that are bright
Flowers, blue and nice

Flowers that invite bees
Flowers that kiss breeze
Beautiful flowers

Flowers are different
Some hold strong firmament
This flower radiates...

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A Message in Blood on the Cemetery Gates
By Demons Be Driven, Hellbound because they’re near
The Cowboys From Hell, their Domination awaits
I’ll Cast A Shadow, ‘cause...

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The catalyst of two faces, his and hers,
bookends with pleasure dais in between.
Faithfully compacted on canvas, concurs,
never turning ones back, remains clean.

Sharp brush of Chagall,...

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I sit upon the harbour wall
And feel the warm sun on my face.
I turn my gaze far out to sea
And watch the happy dolphins play.
Bright...

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Cold Mountain's calling
Winter days die young
Cold rain is falling
Black cloak has been flung

Carve my face
upon Cold Mountain's ice. 
Chisel a trace 
of a smile around...

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Trespassers will be shot


I Survive not as a man but as a human being
I' am level but bent elements of life cast in a mutant...

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Mr. August, the mature man with shining golden hair the color of a ripe cornfield,
He is slightly graying at the temples but his eyes are...

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Mr. August, the mature man with shining golden hair the color of a ripe cornfield,
He is slightly graying at the temples but his eyes are...

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Grandma Curcio 
You look out at me 
From a yellow, cracked photograph
Even my mother 
Doesn't remember your first name
She cannot be faulted
You were dead
Long before...

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A long hot ribbon of black asphalt
as the hot sun beats down upon it
it goes straight as a ruler across the land
with shimmering mirages upon...

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