Best Pokers Poems

Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks



Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
 
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the...

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Through the cracks in my paving
I'm growing lemon thyme
The rosemary I'm saving
In my cooking will taste divine.

Apple mint and dill, Parsley and chives
Basil and coriander,...

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Hydrangea blues
                blooming in seven colors
    ...

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FLOWERS'    SECRET   DESIRES



Buttercups want to slim down their cholestrol with a diet
To become low-low cups,  they wanna try it
Sunflowers...

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The Devil got the sack last week 
He’s feeling at a loss
For several thousand years now
He’s been in charge, the boss
The new man’s changing everything
Hired...

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From jokers to aces...shooting sharp arrows of anger at Gods shepherds and His sheep
With perditions plots and plans...with a million madness minds...
STILL OUR FAITH IT...

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My idea of Hell 
is not that of demons with red-pokers, 
emerging from hot flames... 
as Dante's Inferno; this is the harshest punishment!


Shouldn't all persecuted...

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Inglenook 

She, the face in the embers, 
The remnants of a raging fire,
Smoulders like a cigarette
Between lips of lustful desire. 

Where men stoke in gay...

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Constructive conflict
Summer of red hot pokers
Being wrong is right...

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The grower's child and the picker's child want to run away
They want to go to Duluth, the most exotic place they know
We fear he'll get...

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crackling within the core
deeply burning
penetrating agony
torturing hell
pulsating burns
letting loose
in a broken heart

blinding weakness
hatred falling
inflicting torture
hounds of hell
howling unmercifully 
draining love
jeweled tears
of emotion
begin counting steps 
slowly...

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This world 
in a state 
of confusion 
upside down 
in no mans land 
love eternal flame 
hopes candle 
blossoming red 
flames on fire 
with the...

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Your words are like red iron pokers,
Poking my heart ‘til I learn.
Though the argument was yesterday,
My heart still feels the burn.

The blow you give with...

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Pray, my lord, says the priest. ‘Tis sweet balm for the soul,
and he, he sees yours-
Lord, I hope not- you think.
‘O! there are spirits of...

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The blindfold slips away under currents of corrosive tears

	Shadows line myopic eyes in blistering haze

Cataracts melt sightless accusations and brooding incisions

	A flickering candle waxes and...

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