Best Hunched Poems

The moonlight bathed her cell in pallid light while she sat hunched over her desk, clutching her pen between her confound fingertips. As she bled ink...

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I am standing outside my bedroom, on the precipice of lost innocence.
Wide eyed, and barefoot on cold hardwood.
Someone is hammering on our front door.
My father,...

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It was the last year of high school and there was a lack of beaux,
But then I got an invite. Whew, that was close!
So now...

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I once had knew a man 
Who became older than a dead man 
A tired soul, he was.
Looked like he'd never seen a bed 

...

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The room is still,
Quiet but for wind and rain
Making music on the windows.
Empty but for endless shelves
Of leather-bound volumes -
The first editions you loved so...

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Alone,
slicked with sweat,
and hearing the locusts’ cries 
deep in my neck,
I stood over the remains 
of Sal Paradise.
 
The spotty grass 
around the tombstone
was browned...

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We lived in a crooked house.
Built on a muddy mound of hope with the corpse of yesterday half buried beneath
Sad eyes and smiley faces. A...

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THE MAD SECRETARY

Hunched over the computer, I am  mystical,
With mental white gloves and a karate belt - 
A daylight cursor, but on my bicycle,
A...

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Have you seen a Rockwell 1950's Lemonade Wars?
Two girls, both white of course,
dressed for YoungRepublican success
scowling at each other on a pristine deserted street
of the...

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I glanced out my window watchin' kids plod along to school today.
I recalled my school days and how things have changed along the way
I watched...

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My cousin shared her wishes and dreams,
On our star gazing night,  she whispered them so sweet
As a shooting star glided down from  the...

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Oh the Ghosts, Oh the Ghosts!!!
The Ghosts of Christmas shall haunt the wicked
They shall haunt the bitter and sorrowful decrepit creatures
Your hunched back and wallet...

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(a Salute to Howard Moss)

Although it is not yet warm,
we have shoved to the backs of closets
snow-boots, gloves, and woolen scarves, 
locked tire chains and...

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March

Sweet, bitter March,
last year tears haven’t dried out up 
till now and yet you
are already at the door,
knocking lightly!

Sadness is still flapping over my head...

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God knows each heart that walks the streets, and then,     
each sense of guilt caught up in false pretense.  ...

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