No One Poems - Poems about No One

The last curtain came down one evening at nine its drapery falling to signal ‘it’s time’ The theater dark all stagehands have gone alone in her presence my final swan song The exit door opens a new crowd appears applauding me onward past laughter and tears With one final bow but never so sure eternity clapping — forever’s encore (The Bryn Mawr Theater: August, 2025) ...

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Problems when ply in, To some it is a stop sign, To some a guideline From a well-wisher genuine-- To follow and feel so fine. A beautiful girl, To boy, a beauty to meet, To wolf, meat to eat, To renounced sage, flesh unfit, All three their fond flags unfurl. __________________ Tanka | 17.08.2025 | problem, girl ...

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Then she appeared, like morning’s glow, Through pixel-light our truths would flow. I swore that love was just a game, She held my doubts without the shame. A year we spoke in midnight streams, Trading hope through fragile dreams. I gathered courage, soft but true, “To keep in touch—could that be you?” Two weeks passed, the silence thin, Then at 2 a.m., she pulled...

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Birdsong And the leaves of grass Make their own music As the bubbling rill Warbles it's way Lawns hum their busy state And butterflies add their flutter ~kcm...

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I'm so tired, don't want to do this anymore. Please just leave, and be sure to close the door. No, I don't want to talk, I want to be left alone. Now who the hell is that? Where's my damn phone? Just what part of go don't you understand? You turn and you leave, and don't come back again. I'm sorry, but it's just been one of those...

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As I stand here looking in the mirror at the woman looking back at me, it’s there written in her eyes all the secrets that her mind and heart keeps It’s written all over the lines on her once beautiful face, the toll that the stress has caused over the years from all of her shame,...

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Like that one familiar friend - Hope knows what I'm feeling Before I've said anything And gladly walks behind. She has peace in her eyes And keeps her lips silent; Words are irrelevant But hearing might suffice....

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Close your eyes and hold breath Count to ten and leave in air, I think you can feel rest on tenth Indeed,it's how you feel layer. The inner layer of own mind, In the deep ocean,you suppose If you dive,you can see many kind Of fishs and flora,and rise with close nose. And again dive in it to see, But I think you feel...

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You will have to paint this, you’ll have to clean that I sit in the sun, soaking it up like a tabby cat No one can rush me, I’m retired you see On May 31st, I will be seventy-three....

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it is strange to me that a color means something by itself, it elicits memories and experiences orange is my go-to color, not blue or pink yet did they dress me in orange when I was a baby? in the fifties? I rather doubt it. Actually, most of the photos of me as a baby show me in a diaper and...

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I remember when age was a candle number ~ now it is ignored until count down tells on years ~ then you beg for just one more...

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Literary and Cultural Terms Masnavi (also Mathnawi): A classical Persian poetic form consisting of rhyming couplets with a continuous narrative. The most famous example is Rumi's Masnavi-ye Ma'navi (Spiritual Couplets), a foundational work of Sufi literature. Saqi (also Saqi): The cupbearer or wine-server in Persian poetry, often a beautiful youth who serves wine at gatherings. In Sufi...

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by ego upstaged, soul’s light caged we wandered earth like a lost ghost fire of desire in our heart raged for peace we wandered coast to coast synced not to music of the spheres by ego upstaged, soul’s light caged we sought solace among our peers mental battles ceaselessly waged in the flow of time, body aged we were but a dead man...

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Yorkshire’s blessed treasure chest best take their Test berth as they surf the crest out on the hallowed turf The self anointed..God’s own country..didn’t rest..hasn’t disappointed..simple ploy Plucky…lucky to be an envoy that still has the joy..zest of a boy The honed treacle toned timbre of their timber toy Well when you’ve researched the top of the queue in...

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A beggar’s shadow stretches longer than the street God steps over it....

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