Best Matte Poems

Countless generations lapsed since height of Greco-Roman mythology conceived, birthed and populated vast canopy of sky and expanse of terrestrial firmament, whereat obeisant propinquity quintessentially...

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I'm an ashen dove, 
fading in zephyr 
of wine valleys, 
saturating in fog 
upon enchanting hills, 
draped in 
grape-green silk, 
where fantasies of forest, 
sprout...

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"Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more, in the leafless root there is no less"...

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When the mirror of 
               life is a gossamer film, ...

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On another impoverished evening
so strangely bleak, the moon weeps
for more burning her soul must retain,

And she clings like a stem to the tree of life
that...

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So many, maybe millions
No, billions. Trillions?
Of stars, a quiet, hot snowfall
of white stars; sandal season squall.
Each birch tree here outdoing 
January's record accumulation.

Weeks of hour...

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A life moves on
The empty space
A vacancy
The smile missed face

The heartfelt ache
The hopeful joy
Of knowing birds
Must wings deploy

The silent cloak
Of no-one there
Is draped on shoulders
Poised...

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Written: February 13, 2023
           ____________________________________________

An anathema for,
pilose nettle burns,
an art form of unstable feathers,
tropes across...

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No twilight concerto to sway     not yet
as  zigzag street lights pound upon
heavy fog  clutching iced flakes  on rooftops
like...

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Hmm...What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About...

Today (a rather brisk, chilly,
and otherwise sat
tiss factory twirly delightful
December 18th, 2018) matte
her of fact quite
refreshing noontime, while...

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1
Profound insight climbing the mountain
The higher you go the more beautiful view 
Opens up wide spread in front of you
You see the world under your...

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A delusory pleasure bristled the solitary abator 
And the dusky night rides down the sky
An ethereal beauty demoed with her au naturel demeanor
The solitary abator...

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I Do Not Know The Secret...,
Asper Art Of Writing Acclaimed Poem...

Not purposeful intent,
when tasking self (Das Scribe)
a nondescript member of
*****sapiens village people tribe
metaphorical spear...

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Ah, we ladies never have enough!
Foundations in all shades.
Forever~ in new forms.
Cleansers that promise us youth.
Softeners that hide wrinkles.
Lipsticks, a source of confusion.
Creamy, matte, or...

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“Evil begets Evil” 
I read upon the derelict arch, 
Engraved in the stone: a warning to all 
Who to these ruins would march. 
“Evil begets...

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