Hillman Poems - Poems about Hillman

...He is my favorite artist believe it big JOHN BUSCEMA- - He’s my favorite He is my favorite, artist None of you could believe it; He draws women like a dream and… His name is John Buscema<......

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...The Snowflake Sit quietly And pretend There's a roaring fire In the fireplace The snow Silently builds Against the north side Of the house. Smell The smoke? Listen To the wind......

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...The signs are all around me— skies are suddenly gray-white, and I smell snow is coming, maybe on this very night… ************************ What is this ambiance of awe when viewing those fi......

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...Gray soldier-stones now guard my child through seasons lost. There is no sunshine, only rain.......

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...It was the first car I owned and the only one It was a small black Hillman bought for one hundred dollars It drove for three weeks on a tank of fuel Never letting me down except when it rained You s......

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...Do you hear them, Mom? he asked. I was busy doing a household task, but I stopped to listen seeing sweat on his forehead begin to glisten. The room was quiet, and I’d say, even cool, his lip......

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...This year, at the holidays of course, I miss home, surrounded by sand dunes, and Iraqi mosque-domes. But I willingly came to guard against fear— not let terrorist conquer everything I hold d......

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...An ol’ cowboy once told me, “Son, keep yor’ Saddle straight— cinched up tight ‘n squared away, an’ don’t depend on fate. For if yor’ a straight shooter, yor’ life will be real tame. A handsha......

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...In days of old, when nights grew cold, men told a dreadful tale of Trapper Jim—how they buried him on a night the wolves did wail. It seems at the time, Jim was checking his line, and stopped......

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...Age 6….. Passing the mirror, she pulls at her cheeks, sticks out her tongue— blonde ringlets encircle a freckled face. 13….. The mirror beckons— ......

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...Where are you? I can’t find you, I cant see you. I call out your name and come to find you. I want to find you in the shed, making Linda’s sledge. Whistling to yourself as you go along. I wa......

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...In the year, nineteen an’ thirty-nine, in a small town that seemed not to care, a little girl tried her very best to dress well, and groom her dark hair. She’d fight for her life—whatever it took, a......

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