Muttering Poems - Poems about Muttering

mosquitoes mutter against the backyard deck screens they say let us in kamakazie rain drops shower on their squadrons that's evolution life just comes and goes as if of it's own accord and the humans dream as if tomorrow will always be there for us we're just one species stan sand...

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M and M ... bitter chocolate Exodus groaning Desert vile hope melting in the fetter-free hands Wilderness wandering lust ... Egyptian longing Some wanting to shortly shackle return to the chains of long captivity Be slave pawns in Pharaoh’s wicked plans, such a reprobate pity M and M death yearnings — The Living God, those err tomb walkers chose to withstand Murmuring ... desiring evil, carnal...

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In my mind the incessant rumbling churns A thunderous rolling resounding roar And in my heart a craving burns and yearns longing to regain peace and drift ashore where a native drum beats every blue spirit meets the muttering retreats ...

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Of restless moonless blue sky, no stars sway. Through unfailing half-deserted winding cobblestone lanes, wall sconces light the way. Castle stone walls forged, dead ends are binding. The muttering retreats through half-deserted streets, shattered recall repeats. ...

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To whisper in the eyes of a lover and find the cold frozen tip of a tear in silence, our blue hearts would discover that love had become fragile and austere through our emotion's brawl and our dreadful downfall inlaid in...

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Night will whisper romance, 'neath the blue moon Love will find eager hearts in which to glow Stars above will twinkle a mellow tune And passion will continually flow delicate wings in sight so fragile is love's flight emotions feel just...

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From now on- I will not fear my night dream, will let the awful and dreadful linger; and no matter how bad I will not scream, at the inner sadness that must flicker. I will seek a place blue, with trees a deep green...

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Within an old box in my musty, dark basement; I found my journals. So many- sad, I held one, a dusty book of lost dreams. __________________ April 9, 2017 Poetry/Tanka/Lost Dreams Copyright Protected, ID 17-9958-23-0 All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym....

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Spluttering, Muttering and Stuttering Mandruka was always a spluttering Wife was always talking and muttering Then came Frank who was always fluttering Golly, Molly was always stuttering Mandruka’s wife yelled stop that blundering. Written: Aug. 11, 2015 Theresa Marie W-C...

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Miranda: talk to your restive soul, elementally abstract. Home – was minimal comfort, for the flying birds. Clock, to explode today on your face. You were eying the bride, in turbulent sky. Who had brought the moon at Agave’s feet ? Satish Verma...

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