Best Tattered Poems

In the recollections of my journey thus far, the tattered pages of my life flutter
in my mind.  Like snapshots of times and places in...

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I sure miss the old hymns of ages past.
With tattered edges their message still lasts.
Those five stanza’d jewels I know by heart--
“The Sweet By and...

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Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on...

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In a moment of juvenile jealousy 
he envies his red rival

with its intimate and greedy embrace of her angels’ share
of honey and vanilla spice
as wet...

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Have a lovely day


Pushed now to the limit by a never ending whisper
Lost behind the meaning of a question I can’t hear
Dreaming of a day...

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Why I did it, I don’t know
Tornado of regret tortures my heart

On a moonless night, he approached 
Limping toward me as I pumped gas
Why was...

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Who Can Argue Miracles Exist?

No man, be he grandiloquent or coarse;
             be he...

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I had seen her before in the spring and summer
The homeless lady sitting on the church steps
She would ask for help from people going into...

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I turn my head, and there she is once more
in her disheveled, worn, and tattered dress,
one pew behind me near the exit door-
she sits head...

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When the Flowers of Youth Fell

Winter stayed late that year
courting Spring with a fury.
Beautiful gifts of snow
and dazzling ice, he gave her.
It was during such...

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Around midnight, in the library I found myself drawn,
to these shelves haunted still by Poe, Stevenson and King,
as a rare, late October storm brews beyond...

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the solitude
the silence
silence of a bee in the forest
silence of the leaves
leaves on majestic trees
leaves my soul quivering 
quivering treasures
quivering happiness and joy 
joy...

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Mi Madre
Lung of Life
Heartbeat of the universe
Birth of consciousness

Mirror of the heavens
Grains of sand
Beneath my tender flesh

How glorious to gaze upon you
I weep with the...

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“The Queen-Sized Bed”.
			 © London F. Buss

  A queen-size bed was coming slowly,
  down the rough dirt track.
  As it drew closer,
...

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May stretched its legs into grave.
The thunder heralds the rains.
A hut on the bank of Kanoli canal
Is not re-thatched this year.
Her infant’s illness made the...

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