Best Mot Poems

...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot


Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat
their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No fancy gadgets,
just a jar of pencils newly cut.
The clatter
of a typewriter
haunts...

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Le Mot Juste

The right word indeed is what we poets always seek
As we use our imaginations in finding and identifying
A theme of interest and one that allows us to work and
To weave a tapestry of poetic virtue and enchantment.

The right word for the sake of...

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I am
Mother Of The
tribe
Ma’at
and I am
as One
thought
that of Thoth
and half of these
as a twin of yours
.
I am Guide
and Guardian
in the guise of Word
and I keep a list
on the book of death
as I mark the Sea
with a mount of rock
I keep the wits
for all of gods
.
I...

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...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot


Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No fancy gadgets,
just a jar of pencils newly cut.
The clatter of...

Continue reading...

Loose leaves rustle. 
The gray light of evening dips and sways 
and night closes in. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the harbingers of better days. 

No fancy gadgets, 
just a jar of pencils newly sharpened. 
The clatter of a typewriter 
haunts the silence,...

Continue reading...

Loose leaves rustle. 
The gray light of evening dips and sways 
and night closes in. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the harbingers of better days. 

No fancy gadgets, 
just a jar of pencils newly sharpened. 
The clatter of a typewriter 
haunts the silence,...

Continue reading...

...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot

Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat
their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No fancy gadgets,
just a jar of pencils newly sharpened.
The clatter
of a typewriter
haunts...

Continue reading...

I saw you again last night, real and near and true---
And knew that, if I found The Right Word
(not good words, or convincing words;
only The Right Word would do),
You would turn and see me,
And know, clean and clear,
Like the ringing of a bell,
That though the...

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