Long Mulberries Poems

It was late in the perpetual summer, and I had been dozing,
On a blue and balmy afternoon, as I lulled on my porch swing.

When from my pleasurable dreams, I was eventually aroused,
By sweet breezes that...

Read More

A cricket chirps, a sparrow sings 
     Grasshoppers glide on chattering wings.
A summer’s day in august thus begins.
     Each crack upon the sidewalk 
Breaks another mother’s back.
...

Read More

Is it the early morn in a yellow field of corn,
Or could it be flowers with strange powers,
Or a stroll on a donkey chomping a carrot,
Or a baby pig in a pram, who would make...

Read More

A little piece of Heaven
Just like in my dreams
Just as I remembered
In shades of blue and green
Blue sky, honeysuckle summer 
Green green grass of home
Hurley Mississippi
Down Mulberry Road 
     Feelings flooding...

Read More

The sweet bird songs heard at the break of dawn
Mixed with the sound of sprinklers on the lawn
Neighbors readied boats for bobs in the bay
Morning papers landed in each driveway
Boxy air units were wedged into...

Read More

First Line Prompt Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward


Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
   where fruit bears life whispering to the breeze,
      seedlings turn into roots and roots start to...

Read More

A timed lesson in diameter of dialogue is akin to eating a vast amount of bean. But buttering a heron should never really be performed in a new moon. So hesitate not by the tropical...

Read More

The air, warm, unmoved, clings to our bodies
Like an old, familiar blanket.
From the west, the light,
A warm amber brew, pours down
And is strained through the leaves of the nearby gums
It fills the veranda and spills...

Read More

Blackberries, blackberries, what’s the big deal?
They’ve too many seeds, and they give me no thrill.
They’re actually tart and they’re only sweet when
placed into a pie. Are they even good then?

Likewise the strawberry is not all...

Read More

DARKNESS GROWS IN THE GARDEN OF PLEASANTRIES 

Meandering through the garden of pleasantries,
did you sense, the breathless pant of trees,
or hear, the violin seduction, of Cupid’s sentries,
or pierce the eyes, the blossom spread of luxuries?

Do...

Read More

In the pale sunshine of a springtime morn,
As fresh as the dawn before it was born,
Such creamy clouds, grace a deep blue sky,
After the midnight of rain has passed by.
Plum purple blooms, leave scented traces,
As...

Read More

Grandma’s Old Oak tree

No backyard trees do I remember,
Tho cottonwood and mulberries lined street and walk,
So for this purpose one I’ll adopt one from
Grandma’s backyard for this poem’s talk.

A round old oak, too big to...

Read More

Brother and I borrowed a ride.
Upon a hay baler machine.
We balance ourselves with iridescent eyes,
On fresh cut blocks of green.
Three by three the layers are stacked,
Tightly bound with sturdy string.
We sprawl on our sides watching...

Read More

For my water god I entered the wetlands.
Fog was increasing and me becoming incoherent.

The swamp throws a high tide of rolling wave
I lift the burden of bones and take a plunge in darkness.

The holy moon...

Read More

For my water god I entered the wetlands.
Fog was increasing and me becoming incoherent.

The swamp throws a high tide of rolling wave
I lift the burden of bones and take a plunge in darkness.

The holy moon...

Read More