Best Plowed Poems

In raw dawn I emerge
crow-thoughts
pecking skull-bone
black as plowed earth.

Farm-stench floods –
dung, hay and blood –
primal musk of life
and death intertwined.
Yet in this first breath
of day there’s a peace
and so stillness
rising from the land
like a satin prayer.

Twin mountains loom
granite-toothed giants
gnawing at the pale sky’s
underbelly.
I but a...

Continue reading...

* Bringing this gem back in the hope Becca Teagan sees it and returns. We wrote this together, a labor of love. The poem ends with a moral lesson that humanity still hasn't learned, sadly.

 In Salem town a crime occurred 
 that rendered justice...

Continue reading...

If I could no longer write poetry, I'd have no need of hands, 
nor eyes weary from weeping, a heart that lies broken, 
and a soul dead from mourning.       ~ by poet


I heard the faint echoes of scurrilous snarls,...

Continue reading...

She shuffled by our house, so slow and bent,
No second thought of where the lady went.
On her return, no one around to see.
A shaded path, she blended with the trees.

We children always giggled, as she passed.
A group emboldens others to harrass.
Our high pitched jeering from...

Continue reading...

To Those That Have Walked Dark Halls Of Deepest Grief

Truth of deep grief and its healing powers;
Are not in the anguish pains that invade,
With the blackest of black in midnight hours
Dancing dark corridors in Hell's parade.
It rests in the sweet blessings of gloom's end
That relief,...

Continue reading...

Rows and rows and rows of white crosses,
Like sentinels -stone-fixed to the ground.
The wind like a shroud wraps around them,
Enshrining each space where they're found.

Stone guardians stand at attention,
Into the distance -row after row.
O' mourn those hallowed internments,
Where our heroes are resting below.

Rows and rows...

Continue reading...

T'was a warm summer's day, when I took to the trail,
to cruise that old black spruce, way down in the swale.

A gallon of bug dope was strapped on my hip,
which I figured would last me for most of the trip.

Down through the sphagnum I plowed...

Continue reading...

Meet the mother - old Miss Jenny
She gave birth to chicks aplenty
(Never dreamed she’d have so many)

But sly Wiley, a hungry fox
Was more threatening than the cocks
Tummy growling, he picked the pen’s locks

As her chicks began to shriek
Jenny pecked Wiley with her beak
And he was...

Continue reading...

Colorful Me LSD



Kaleidoscope euphoric psychedelic dreams
Rainbows colour perfect peaches and cream
Splashes orgasmic silhouettes of tiny screams
Cobalt rain droplets in a sunny set theme...

Tiny pearl spiders spin opaque webs in my spine
Snow plowed glass hazards in white chalked up lines
In awe to see so artfully the...

Continue reading...

At Dalton town where I was born
in Ozark hills of home,
There lived a man named Leamon Brown
who plowed the rich, black loam.

His wife, a sweet and gentle soul,
did not foresee his bent,
she daily worked beside her man
who seemed to be content.

But in his heart a...

Continue reading...

My eyes have not grown too weak or dim
to ignore what they've long been seeing
pretenders who wear a mask of disguise
like a skier who's not proficient at skiing

Everyone who labels him/herself a 'poet'
thinks he's composed brilliant words, versed
but lacks ability, and some of us know...

Continue reading...

Poverty stands close ready to knock
Bare essentials just those
Much love, human companionship
Lessons in life imposed

As a boy he learned to work
He didn't love it but did
With willingness he plowed the mule
No brothers' work him outdid

Responsive, responsible boy
Turns into a selfess man
A reliable mature human
Remembers where...

Continue reading...

I shoot up above the silent, spellbound crowd,
Gaping down at their bright hands with glassy eyes,
Then I pierce the satin clouds that dress the skies,
And drift in space toward that eternal shroud,
The vast field of stars that angels tilled and plowed.
How the crowd tilts down...

Continue reading...

A storm is brewing, strong and proud,
     a dense and heavy somber view,
like smoke-filled billows that enshroud
     the splendor of earth's sky of blue.

With blankets of gray thunderheads
    A storm is brewing, strong and...

Continue reading...

Now let me share my shivery story, 
With random revelations shed some light -
Though I’m a dazzling glow but no glory, 
I’m much more than white mesmerising sight. 

I know around the globe I’m frowned upon, 
Shoved aside as unremarkable meme. 
Frosty and I, my...

Continue reading...