Oblique Poems - Poems about Oblique

--- No "news flash", obviously --- just a momentary flickering, a little something of the infernal plays through the warm glow of the inviting angel's face....

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Oblique Assassination is not a word. I will speak out laud or glorify, but there is the moment the word enters my mind but I refuse to go down that road, and in the instance I think of will make matters worse and we might risk a military uprising. Should we go to this forbidden place we too become murderers even if...

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Today as any day, No more, No less. Programmed obliqueness. Awakening, Shower to clean, Breakfast to UN-fast. PC and Poetry, for the mind, Wal-Mart to refurbish, Then we dine. PBS, PC and Poetry, Card game and munch. Supper, TV, Then, bedtime. Today as any day, No more, No less, Scheduled obliqueness. Silently, more or less....

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Fear breeds bout: Odd one out, A strange shout. Feel the fear: Crash what's clear, Drown fond cheer. Know that feel: Hurts now bill, Purge lost thrill. Lost not found: In mad grounds, Pain moods pound. Ooze of zest: Now drowns fest, Odd blown jest. Leon Enriquez 08 November 2018 Singapore...

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There is no nothing for what we call nothing which is really space is definately something emptiness void abyss all something like glass from lights point of view as we are as light to space we offer eachother no resistance and yet are as real as eachother transparent matter to light is space and perhaps as light is refracted bent and reflected through glass and transparent crystal perhaps so...

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Oblique! (The day the gray line Wavered) It was hot again, for the third straight day, but it was the 3rd of July; the time the place was Gettysburg and the year was sixty-three The fence is still up at Emmitsburg Road, cried one Southern boy, it should have come down in the dark, then...

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A feckless mist came out of nowhere, to blur the fresco of my dream, and frayed the edges of my sorrow, with no regard for where I've been. How often have I searched the night, to hear the voice that calls to me, to trace the outline of a smile, or once again recall the face, if only for a...

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A golden fortune lingers along the patterns of my palm; a opiate suave the mere touch; a picturesque symbolic of greed and dishonor thousands of lips taste swiped corporate rhinestones By Glenn McCrary © 2012 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)...

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