Best Quailed Poems

Our dark founding father, of American literature,
A sinister beacon of darkness, lighting the way
Into the darkened abyss of mankind’s soul.
Within the galleria of madness, he is the
Grandmaster of the black ink, and it's
 Written words of terror.
In thus the shadow realm, does his spirit
Still roam,...

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I woke last night and read my Poe
and asked is all that we see or seem
but a dream within a dream of a dream?
I know what I don’t know what I know.

In Bethlehem’s cradle, a Child lay still
love's eternal flame, born to fulfill.
Mary, enraptured gazed...

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A shades poet, writing in blacks quailed ink,
Expressing emotions by a poetic pallet of diversity,
On a canvas rainbow bursting forth across the
Horizon at dawns first light.
Imaginations dream seeker, walking amongst 
The clouds, in heaven's meadows above.
Inspiration's muse, she'll never realize what
A simple comments pleasure, can...

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Once I called all poets to come, they came
And sat in judgment upon me
With my silence I hid their shame
And watched them toasted their misery
Tell me, did then the vision of the poet failed?
Can human only know their own history
Was the larel of our friendship...

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If you attend one word I say, then read, dear child, please 'READ,'
Life's not like golf you score yourself though Donald feels the need!
Golf's time you waste, scant aid to health (so you're a fool indeed),
Your feces is your life's extent, a 'dinosauric' creed!

The "Donald"...

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January: is mountain of blessing where the births sing with hope for those 
Semen mentioned on this occasion to Ottoman Empire where conqueror doesn't 
Need dozens of sword to shout. He only understands the cap of his life when 
January was burn since the inception...

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Some place somewhere,in nowhere
Oh! come dearly wind,come to the place and everywhere
Were it not bad of you to bend and bypass us in your haste
Eternal it would be-had love been bethrothe'
To the valley,slummed with valour sparse
Over thy children deliver the sermon of love

Sizzling sobliquity enlarged-in...

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The action is downtown going quickly there 
are girls dancing on a pool symbolism not needed 
this constant friction any pubic hair left 
it doesn`t matter it is in garish colours and
music that arrests free thinking and lap dancing are for losers
the only time the...

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My Last Las Vegas C.E.S. (1)
(A Memorial Poem)
I long counted Steve Bristow a friend (1) and we'd fly off to lunch
some days (Steve would get 'hours in' he needed for license - small planes).
It was fun to go with him (a 'lunch' more than three...

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This morning as I woke up,

smiling at a new day,

thinking I’m a day older,

I looked forward to another birthday,

but my mind quailed at the aftertaste

before I shared my joy

with friends and kindred:

another day had been taken away,

and my dying day advances!

 

Out of my window...

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Crazed commotion commercialized
Addictive actions appraised
Watching wearily waiting
Glances, glimpses gazed 

Cell phone checked consistently
No new numbers needing names
Conniving, covetous and creative
Greedy gigantic game

Where, who and what?
Questions queenly quailed 
Answers acquiring accuracy
For a fearing fortress failed  

Captured confidence compiling
Suspicions a soaring social sight
Distrusting defiant diligence
Readily rehearsing...

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The pageantries of mighty kings to us were shows that mattered not,
Beneath the shade of blades unsheathed in Kalima we glory sought.
Our only life was then to face the perils of Your Holy wars;
To glorify Your name we died, adorned with hallowed battle scars.
Not lust...

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Black holes in space
Not monsters that waste
They have their place
Center Master’s face

Eventful potentials
Mouths are essentials
Not to be quailed
Potential filled wells

By Word of truth
Potential filled booths
By no man go aloof
Look around see proof

`Tis not a spoof
You may accept truth
These surrogate faces
Indigenous’ oases 

Out of darkness of...

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...He still felt the urge to comfort Whitney,
to tell her he didn’t blame her for this,
that all of this had been Jesse’s doing,
but the words just didn’t come to his lips.
But Whitney’s lips did, she was in his arms,
even now he felt helpless to her...

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My good friend, I shook on our first school day 
you played with me until the bell.
My own friend, I quailed on my wedding eve,
you stood by me and wished me well.

My fine friend, I fussed when my child was born,
you told me I'd be...

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