Write Lay Poems

No longer can I write for soup
Not even a poem on poop
I'm cheating I'm using AI
If challenged of course I'll deny!
Aliens whisked my brain away...

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I have a feeling deep inside,
Feeling I could not put aside.
Something strong shakes and stirs me up.
Something pushes me to stand-up.

My mind grieves the inhumane...

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Sitting alone, iPad in hand,
to pen a poem on demand,
attempting to translate bliss beats,
the rapture refrain that repeats,
feeling within joy germinate,
we write because we cannot...

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Raindrops falling on windowpane
     cloudy grey sky with lightning vein
Upon close look, a lilac hue
     and tiny...

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There are painful pitfalls to happiness
No one, not I, is immune to misery's tragic tune.
We cry in the night like a wolf baying at the...

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For Charley, I write a char-lay
a piece with extra twist bar none.
Dull thought laid aside for a day 
shar-penning a lay just for fun.

When it...

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I've always been a simple man
But all  of that is long before
I found her name is Mary Ann
And she reads poems by the shore

I...

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a lay (lei)

Took a walk in poetry’s field,
many poems caught my appeal.

Planting of new notions I saw
and older verse puts me in awe.

Metaphor, hyperbole, rhyme
alliteration,...

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Lay Down Your Arms
by Michael R. Burch

Lay down your arms; come, sleep in the sand.
The battle is over and night is at hand.
Our voyage has...

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Let eyes meet, let them spark a fire
Let rhythms sing to music of lyre

Let heartbeats of joy write our song
In moods of kisses yearned for...

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On a green patch
In a blue corner
At an orange shadow
Soaked with ache and smell of wine
We sat

A slice of time snatched off
From our call centre...

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I can sing a song happy days

I can dance in different ways,

I can write a thousand words

I can shout, so as to be heard,

I can...

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When I Shall Someday Lay Under Frost On The Ground

In with dead and dying leaves I pass my time
Drink my strong coffee, write my truth,...

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As I Lay in Bed This Morning
By Franklin Price
12/2/2016

As I lay in bed this morning
Thoughts of the day ran through my head
Opened my eyes and...

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To whom do I write?
Who’s to know how I feel inside?
Why these thoughts lead my hand
To write on paper and not on sand

Cigarette on hand,...

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