Gry Poems - Poems about Gry

thin fractures

...Thoughts can be thin fractures in the order of things.
Sometimes my dorm room seems a sterile sarcophagus, like an accusation, or an interrogation about my romantic choices, with nothing warm or inv...

P S It's Poetry Write On Write On Congrats To My Fellow Poetry Soupers Part 9

...P S IT’S POETRY WRITE ON WRITE ON CONGRATS TO MY FELLOW POETRY SOUPERS PART 9


Many thanks to you selected poets; Of sharing your whispers from God, tho you didn’t know it; Each letters and each ...

Ignore the Words

...Ignore
the words
the writer
poured all over
see the white sheet
underneath
wailing at you
tearing up
your interpretation
of something
so simple
as dried ink.

© Gry W Christensen...

Real Men Dont Cry

...SORRY
wen i read an innocent girl raped
for the sake of an old mans lust
lump in my throat then i sob
wen they drop bombs on armless
kids in distant places in the pretext
of patriotism but to a...

Silencio

...again this silence
between 
me and myself
suffocating
in this room
everything
is 
and 
everything 
isn't
I hear
somewhere
a thought
breaking.

© Gry W Christensen...

That Look That Rest On Your Collar Bones

...That look
of yours
that wearily
slides down
from the corners 
of your eyes
that come to
rest on your collar bones
How I wish
I could
take the
sadness away
wipe out those years
smooth out...

A Home

...Sometimes
I long for 
that room
inside 
of me
that will 
pull me in
from the
threshold
of myself


© Gry W Christensen...

Fata Morgana

...for all that I am
is in this mirror
shifty shades
and 
shadows
fogs of breath 
on the glossy surface
and my eyes; 
tired of seeing
the traces of me 
outside the frame.


© Gry W Christen...

Beyond Beyond

...There is a life
behind the mirror
beyond
my features
beyond
my skin
where
a soul
is sliding
along
a beating heart.

© Gry W Christensen...

One

...I
Speak
To
You
I
Am 
An-
Gry
At 
You
Could
We 
Talk
La-
Ter
Be-
Cause
You 
Hurt
Me
With
Words
I
Cuss
And
I
Am
So...
so...
So-
Rry...
I
Am
Ig-
Nor-
Ant
and
Sel-
f...

Brewing Sunsets In Teapots

...I brew sunsets in teapots
I drink the dawn from a mug
and in my bicycle basket I have seduction in a jug
so now and then I take someone clean shaven home to my obliging bed
when I guess I should ...

When In Paris

...When In Paris
I think I see
you
lost under
some umbrella
and in my imagination

I am so lonely here
I stop on sidewalks
and let my keys
slip to the ground
with my address engraved

I wal...

Contours

...Sometimes when the night
crawls upon me
I go out
to look at the people
who's faces have
slipped out
of their contours
slid down
to rest
on collars
features
dripping down
on the
ash grey ...

Stranded Words

...nothing came to me today
not a word
not a scent
nothing new or exotic
nothing old or worn

no lonely lingering feeling
flooding over the paper
no sad tormented wave
washing up letters
nor t...

Sometimes I Forget His Name

...Sometimes
I forget his name
there are cavities 
in love too

dark gaps 
in the cracking heart
where aching
doubt and memories 
pulsate.


© Gry W Christensen...

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