Crumbling Poems - Poems about Crumbling

I've always had the sneaking suspicion I'd never grow old. I'm decaying prematurely, slowly rotting in my core with every mind-numbing day. "Why must every good thing get ruined?" Home is no longer where happy is. So why have you staked your claim on my psyche? Cold blue tile is the foundation from which two children build their world. I can discern...

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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A special-Ty license pla-Te had been sen-T to him. He was ve-Ry pleased with I-t when the sh-Ipment came. ...

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Arecib-O Radar N-Oted cause f-Or its size. Ponce is -A nice sort-A place at -Our south point....

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Puerto Ric-O I am h-Ome at last, O-h I'm blest. San Juan is stil-L so a-Live like mobi-Le peppers. ...

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Onboard the P-lane it was sh-Aking a B-it scary. Nice aeria-L shows centra-L parts home-Land of mines....

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At the airpor-T used credi-T card buy firs-T class seat. Went to first clas-S lounge for drink-S of their Hou-Se Champagne....

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A special-Ty license pla-Te had been sen-T to him. He was ve-Ry pleased with I-t when the sh-Ipment came....

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A tin rain ticks between the scrabble of pigeon claws. Time drips off a shingled edge. In moments you can land years behind as just the shrunken rolling head of a whole decade. Eyes open, you watch, a bushel of owls hooting as aftershocks shake a crumbling roof - one you are no longer under. Listening as if on a phone, sliding into the woe-be-gone, you are now, back...

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White foam crashes with memories of conversations here, an awful date there; welcoming steam floats around work deadlines, lecture notes and scrawls. Cupped hands warm around porcelain gossips with friends, secrets crumbling like biscuits dipped, as thoughts are awash with scents from a city café then and a train station dash back when. That brown bitter liquor lazing...

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Eons ago, near two flowing rivers in old China Lived an old, white clothed man ninety-nine years of age Who glared at two mountains he knew from his long-dead childhood Who glared at the giants he always had dreams of The first was a mist covered mountain, where all beasts were blind With whispers of...

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She is an image of grim loneliness, Her gloomy withdrawn countenance struck me in the middle of a joyful gathering… A shroud of melancholy surrounded her face like a black veil! a wedding celebration going on, plenty of wine, food, cakes…pounding, throbbing music, beautiful bride in white dress, crowd brimming with happiness! Is depression taking over her?! wistful memories of her youth drowning her...

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“Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house, can you hear the whispering”...by Constance La France An old, abandoned house touches the heart its walls whisper of the lives it once held though pillars and stairs now crumbling apart lingering stillness stirs a mystic spell as it yearns for those who long ago dwelled Children's laughter echoes in nursery their toddling drawings...

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A building ruin touches my heart Its days of worthiness are now gone. Its French doors are now falling apart crumbled bricks inhabit one-time-lawn Weeds climb trellis instead of lace vine Honeysuckle no longer calls bees. Bush roses at last gave way to time wind caused an awkward list to the trees. No more wrong key clanks on piano or children giggling, whispering tales No...

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What is this strange place we find ourselves in? Trapped in the open- we are free within. Somehow the norms we always saw as true- have been displaced by those we're not used to. Some rules we follow for our country's sake no longer held as true, replaced as fake! A new world order- now our leaders crave- and yet, within we...

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My sister stopped to visit on her flight home from a tropic isle. Are COVID mutants on last legs? (Most think their death’s long overdue!) Trump’s naive crimes seem more passé though Putin dreams his lies are all he needs to rule the world. Why court the vote of anyone? “Who counts these days (that is not me)?” They’re...

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