Best Newsprint Poems

What softness in silence amidst the cacophony of a spin cycle world war.
Lying next to your glow in sleep's stillness, careful of your bandaged hand.
Watching...

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It was not that she was the only woman in the group, when mingling precariously beneath the bronze figure of William Booth, or her classic...

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(Another childhood or teen years poem.)

Newsprint small talk
in Mediocrity's lead pot
rustles and gossips while,
splashed spectacularly across
the speckled page of
Society's intellect,
a murder making column one
hides the...

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Each box holds its secret.
Old memories, dreams that died. 
The sum of every promise-
the dividends and sighs.

Paper, cloth, and pottery-
a postscript of our prime.
Wrapped in...

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The lights have been turned on
in the attic
Someone has flipped the switch
exposing
cobwebs, caster oil, crutches
newsprint and cheap china
Which I'm hesitant to touch
least it falls apart...

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Come and Find Me in My Solitude


four fingers in a water glass
to keep the “creep” away
four fingers in a water glass
to keep the curse at...

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News flash
Paris attacks;
Violence strikes

~~~~~~~~~


Innocent deaths
Terror unveils;
Death delivers

~~~~~~~~~


Madness conspires
Human debris;
Bigotry unleashed

~~~~~~~~~


Evil men scheme
Distorted agendas;
Self-destruct roams

~~~~~~~~~


Good people die
Bloodbath escalates;
Terror unleashed

~~~~~~~~~


Signs of our times
Deceptive turbulence;
Mortal casualties

~~~~~~~~~


Moods swayed
Fear catapults;
Distorted...

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from:  "The Calyx of the Oboe Breaks", by Conrad Aiken:
"The calyx of the oboe breaks,
silver and soft the flower it makes;
and next, beyond, the...

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The sound of the presses
   While they run at high speed
      The reporters and editor
   ...

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Under a tree of wet blossoms, shimmering to life in the sun, one honey bee is circling around two burly men, who wave it off,...

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I feel like 
I am all alone in this world 
with eyes
watching my every move

you might think that 
I was paranoid 
but every time I...

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It wasn’t that she was the only woman
in the group, that mingled precariously
beneath the bronze figure, or her classic
stance, when placing immaculately the
newsprint covered bottle...

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COLD COMFORT
(A dog's story)
We sit by the window looking in
The rain has soaked us to our skin

We've not much fur and very cold are we
But...

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On the edge of metropolitan midnight
he lays in a breathless silence
rasping the evanescing yesterdays to his windows
both open and locked,
while the unknowing below in stale...

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The ergley-girgley men head south,
Inverting their insides to go out,
Never speaking, only winking
At the waddley ones who wash
Their clothes in bleach to kill the flies.
Oh,...

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