Best Palmed Poems

She felt his hands so gently lift her hair
Her fingers trembled on the moistened quill
She knew his lips would graze her shoulder bare 
Her writing she kept up to mask her thrill

He pressed into her back his angel face
as thighs of steel closed in on...

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Brighter than a fall bonfire but with the chill of ice, 
the winter sun haloes a gray and barren woodland;
throbbing, almost hesitant, with a florescent pulse,
brazen in its unrelenting descent, it clings to the horizon.

How it hurt my eyes.

Thin skinned, the lids tinge orange, the...

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Tonight I felt the deep inner desire to conform, to feel at right with the crowd for fear of being scorned. But don't be fooled dearest reader, this ain't a story of morals and how I got consumed into a life of addiction or crap...

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Crimson rivulets, felled from a need for pain.
They forget to scream, and instead a sigh reigns.
The blade that strokes.
Each murderous thought it provokes.
An attempt to escape paled and failed.
The stains embalmed.
The blade now palmed, for the wrist it may dash.
If it may, more blood doth...

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“Scrabbled”



I could write a book
about all your dance moves
fire handed on a platter
heart beating like a hammer

a body of work
glanced at nonchalantly
on an open floor
dance cards marked, 

silent deals made
and understood
blind man’s bluff 
toe tapping a sequence

by numbers 
on a floor assisted
instinctually sliding 
in the...

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Black silky curtains hang down,
stopping short of 3 inches long,
messy, good scented hair, 
partly covering two beautiful hazel orbs,
dancing with the joy and suns light,
endless staring, tender loving eyes,
placed gently in a smooth light-mocha creame complexion,
centered by a small, cute, baby-like nose,
and large, scrumptious, peach-colored...

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This page shows my writing process and is part of Poetrysoup's first workshop.  The workshop's intent is to reveal how revision strengthens a poem. Constructive feedback can be a gift.  Should any journal editor provide suggestions to me, I'd eagerly listen.  This...

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"Bat Crazy 5"


Some say

she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens 
in the labyrinth of life
that way

the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand 
holding hard-gripped the gear stick

an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the...

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Brighter than a fall bonfire, but with the chill of ice, 
the Winter sun haloes the gray and barren woodland,
throbbing, almost hesitant, with a fluorescent pulse,
brazen in its unrelenting descent, it clings--
to the horizon.

How it hurt my eyes.

Thin skinned, the lids tinge orange, the white...

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"Alpha Mnemonic"



Word
Image
without the image
no word

Language
a disease
communicable 
by mouth

Alpha from brain
Omega passed 
on her tongue
to yours

Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation

gutteral 
romantic
cerebral 
never rehearsed

language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,

Within? 

ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum 

from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien

genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls

amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing...

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Palmed within your outstretched arms openly displayed
our fates are mapped for all to see, believe or be denied,  
so upon the lines of time and faith, let your love cascade.

Closed eyes will not belay the coming, I'm afraid,
nor opened eyes change an outcome gone...

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Behind the mirror, the man is seen

Where on our streets surrounded, Friends

Thousands met cold, untimely death

With screamed echoes of souls unrest

Bullets flied, guns blasted ceaselessly

Children dead in their mothers’ arms

Father, for his lost son searched

Found him only, with parts cut in shreds.

 


Behind the mirror,...

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Lack
Wanting
Needing more
But getting less
Pray Heaven help us out this fiscal mess
Unplanned suddenly most costly demands
Poorest people
With palmed hands
Hunger
Grows
Growls
And moans
For more life
As it consumes
The simple happiness of humble homes

7/16/16

Triple Tetractys 2...

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43 cents in my prune-palmed hand.
Clumped in a circle; flat coins.
Brown for the pennies that hold my thoughts
and silver for the ones it joins.

Cupped in a hand with room for more
yet weighed by the heart as less.
Dumped on a table to bounce and flop
while left...

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SILVER    STRANDS   

We left the dusty strands of Santander  *
And struck west, seeking Peru, the far shining land,
Our carracks riding high in the water,
Hungry to ground our boats on its silver strand.

Pack mules groaned under their silver load,
Barges of...

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