Best Scrawling Poems

Through shadowed trails beneath the moon’s cold stare.
     Its Amber gaze: a burden hard to bear.
This feathered prize found peace in my gut
     No slumber dreamt; no answer could I get.

Eurasian owl with orbs of liquid flame
...

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I stand at the front of the exam hall, which is in total silence.
Grey desks stretch out in neat rows   - 
they remind me of gravestones in the local cemetery,
with white faced students their unwilling occupants.
The only sounds that can be heard are...

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Writing a poem is like giving birth to a baby.
With the copulation of fancy and thought,
Comes the moment of conception!
 
It swims into you as a seed, so tiny, so inconspicuous
Once pregnancy is confirmed, comes irritation, nausea
Lethargy and loss of appetite

All the while you begin...

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Beneath the illumination of the elliptical moon,
Within the cove of diamond bay, waves gently sway
Back and forth, under the oceans clarity of the big blue,
As the surfs foam and spray roll against the white sandy
Beaches beyond.
Hush the breeze whispers to the gulls above, hush, hush...

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It's used as an afterthought, fattening festive 
arrangements for Mother's Day, Easter, 
someone's birthday.  An underrated vine,
enhancing center-stage flowers whose star-power 
doesn't wear well. It's the "coming attraction" 
that's there after the clapping dies down, 
replanted by doorstep or gravestone.  "Grow," 
I say, "Change...

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Murmuration of starlings high. I’m high!
Low stars twinkling with wings. The trumpet’s call!
As winds of war, incline, in warm wind sigh,
the flock, a shock, sans enemies appall.

These friends do fascinate, heard like bombers,
like Japanese over unsuspecting 
Pearl Harbor fight ~ these darling bird-balmers.
The nudge of...

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DISAPPEAR
Tremors are the worst,
the full-body shakes
its like my skin is too tight,
my body doesn’t fit,
my life doesn’t fit
the anxiety no one understands
its invisible,
I’m invisible.
“Snap out of it, Shaky”, they say
“You’re just faking it.”
And I want to crawl into a ball and disappear.
Where did my confidence...

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** A Poetry Avalanche **

Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
  nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
  alrady so tired…
It’s as if 
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
   retreating
From the inspirations...

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A diaphanous mist hangs over me
Blurring my thoughts and fancy
Or is it that my Muses have gone into lazy slumber?

Whatever thoughts I have, they come fragmented and scrambled
In no way I can piece them into a string
As I try to nest them together, they wheel...

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Amidst the amazing aroma of the angelic sticks
Cheering along the chants of charismatic priests
Promising on the petals of pearly purity 
You said, "I LOVE YOU" 

During the dreadful dreams of dying waves
Glancing through the glass of dry gloomy grass
Lifting me up into the light of...

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“When the pen falls silent that once danced to the muse’s command and when the poet’s heart no longer beats with rhyme, we realize that the poet in us is dead. It is a sad truth difficult to reckon.” ~ By Poet


Far from the din...

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I'm just a kid, and life is a nightmare
I'm forced to be mature beyond my age
Using my writing as my therapy
Scrawling my thoughts across the page

Every couple days or so
a poem or two I write
I can't sleep while my thoughts process
So i scribble throughout the...

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You always tell me how much you love my poetry
but is that the only reason you feel drawn to me?
I write Sonnets filled with love and romance for you,
adoring stanzas meant to caress your heart and soul,
but is it my rhyming words, or me that...

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 Part 3

9th Delerium: Emptyness
Water wheels in wastelands... turning,
drowning relics in the slum
Rumpled rags of fashioned burlap... burning,
lit by bandits blind and dumb
Pastured prisons, ponies bridled ... yearning,
forest fairies under thumb
Sounds inside of cauldrons coughing... churning,
blaring bugles, tattooed drum

10th Delirium: Alienation
Rain unravelling, wistfully weeping... falling,
treacle...

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Underneath the calm exterior
quietly weeps a frightened child.
But beyond the reckoning here
lies agelessness and mystery .
Past the well-traveled soul searcher
rises a distinctly brave woman.
All these daunting memories
have not undone her nor
brought her to her knees.
In the dawn you will find her 
scrawling names in the...

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