Long Quilted Poems

A Night On A Wharf

The couple decide to walk. The boardwalk still lit at this late hour guides them. They walk hand in hand,..whispering softly with small talk...solemn.,. lonely , yet together. The walk is...

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The greatest performance of my life.  
Howard’s proud piece de resistance award  on Poetry Nook for my magnum opus “Rush Amid The Rapids” in their daily member section.
After endless hours of toil, tribulation,...

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The Stela Epic by DR. Mohammed F A Alrazak

The grains of sand, the drops of rain, makes the stage for souls to play 
The prints of feet on rocks were wonders and arts as the...

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Lilith Waits   



Lilith waits as she surveys, all her brutal yesterdays

She cruelly paved with stepping-stones of broken hearts and human bones.

Her lips turned up at their red corners, she grins at all the...

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The year has finally yawned and turned       
Upon a half-revealed shoulder.
A vibrancy, intrinsic to a reemerging 
Enforcement of the strengthening light, 
In its deliberate and unconcerned   ...

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Creative cerebral craftiness coaxes...

Childhood campy chimera curtain call
subsequently hinting (based on accuweather)
the approach of blizzard squall
so burrow under quilted cover y'all
until warm temperatures arrive when springtime
ushers social media platforms 
buzzfeeding earthlinked instant karma 
jump/kickstarting linkedin...

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Lightly the rain falls upon the lamp lit streets, the shabbily dressed figure
Walks with an air of uncertainty down the cobbled stone streets, leaning,
On his rickety cane, the elderly gentleman huddles beneath his umbrella Of...

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Let the storms of rage pace us by my friends, for we have our islands
Of friendships resting in calmer waters, shelter coves of treasures devotions
Never to be rocked away, or relinquished!
Admits tidal shifting, know I’m...

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We knew more about our mother. While, father was a revered persona , a bit distant.
Our mother was always an undertone in front of father, an unrecognized delicate privacy, worn out
Her lingering incomplete silences used...

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In the shadows of my half-waked condition of terra firma- patronus renditioned, I mudder into your soil,
snorkel into your swamp of inlet tributary, a flagellum personae , prosopopoeia explorae eel, "Marinas"
here waters water dreams, to...

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I’m lost within words 
   unwritten between 
     pastel pages of the past, 
Yet I weave lyrical love 
   for my sun 
in shimmering shades
  ...

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1 2 1 2 in a tutu playing croquet at three pm

Abracadabra is a giant kilo of horse manure thrown at the head with a boom. But a boom is neither a boomerang nor a...

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Author's note: This is an epic length poem that will have to be split into parts and will be serialized in successive posts.

Part 3


our subject awoke 
while still dark everywhere
dark with agony 
an amputee's life...

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A WORLD WHEREIN WOLVES HAVE BREASTS                           page 1

If only...

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A WORLD WHEREIN WOLVES HAVE BREASTS                           page 1

If only...

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I have a special story I wish to share
About a seamstress beautiful and fair

She would fade away turning into smoke
Of her amazing beauty, no man would joke

The spiraling smoke would then re-form
I know only an...

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Continued from Part 1

               “Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
      ...

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THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE

Listen to the weeping willow weep, its cries echo against the
Mountain sides, gentle is she the long lashed Spanish moss,
Whom tenderly wipes away the each tear drop as they fall?
Oh so softly...

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Lying in my Grandmother's old brass bed
I watch the blades of her ceiling fan slowing turning
Around and around and around again...
From the heat of this steamy July 
There is no end to my yearning.

The old...

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Written: March 28, 2024 For Constance La France Contest

Quote: (The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.) Marcel Proust
 
       ...

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So Much To Say


”Here’s your oatmeal and blueberries for breakfast,” I said 
     putting on a smile.
She said, “Could you adjust my pillows?
     “Of course honey, “...

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.  So Much to Say
”Here’s your oatmeal and blueberries
      for breakfast,” I said. putting on a smile.
She said, “Could you adjust my pillows?
     “Of course...

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alternate long worded title – the grudge holder from one generation to the next for all intents and purposes remains the same, and thus interestingly enough, they can easily be a pinch hitter for man,...

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That gilded cage
with its…
heavy quilted,
ironclad armour 
is Home 
to her soul

She's been busy
racking up layers
while her soul burrows 
deeper 
and deeper 

yielding to the cage's allure

as it whirls through
timeless wormholes 
birthed by life's orbit


Her soul...

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As the glistening jewels 
         of snow cascade like 
ballerinas pirouetting 
      to the crescendo of time, 
choreographed from porcelain 
 ...

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