Mothballed Poems - Poems about Mothballed

...Courts oblivious, on blissful high, Poor plaintiffs on a long wait die, The system still stays put On same age-old input, Mothballed, the pending cases lie. Perfection, a vague search, Totter i......Read the rest...

...How Do You Feel I feel bubbly but corked Reserved and labeled In the light, I sparkle However, my home is dark And cold And chilled No, I'm not a message in a bottle Floating across......Read the rest...

...Grandma’s secret places mothballed memories......Read the rest...

...There, parked in rows like overused commas or German prose or mothballed bombers lay ranks of rats as if on drill, but quite as dead as vaudeville. Someone had slit each ventral hide an......Read the rest...

...Her life was on ice she wore purple silk accented black earrings and chain ship of gold mothballed connie pachecho 1/19/17......Read the rest...

...Moon has possessed me again. I have become dervish. It hints at shedding the leaves. Flame of forest wants to glow at noon. It was a genuine withdrawl from honeycomb. You wanted to ......Read the rest...

...I wrote a great book, part memoir, part novel Shopped it around, I ain’t too proud to grovel Got kicked upstairs to a big publishing head He invited me in, and here's what was said: This screed......Read the rest...

...Second Home by Rob Barratt An escape from the rat race. Life lived at a slower pace An idyllic setting they won’t be letting The cottage slumbers , Like the electricity meter numbers It’s early Ma......Read the rest...

...The fading colours in a trembling leaf, Perhaps a portent of the coming cold, When the heavy hand of an icy winter Will press hard upon gully, flat and fold. The rose’s vicious stems will be laid ba......Read the rest...

...Second Home by Rob Barratt An escape from the rat race. Life lived at a slower pace An idyllic setting they won’t be letting The cottage slumbers , Like the electricity meter numbers It’s e......Read the rest...

...Strands of silver, tinsel fine, Thin, flyaway, Winged, widow’s peak Widows’ weep Bubba, Grandma, alone. Up the dark tenement stairs Cross tiny, tile squared floors To the always open door… ......Read the rest...

...Never did I love someone the way that I love you, Never did I feel such love, so resolute and true; My sometimes sin, to sainthood turned, in dreams to canonise In the willow-patterned blueness......Read the rest...