Orts Poems - Poems about Orts

...A descension of value bows night scenes, the purple canopy edges its hoist, spirits cool Platte River to lose its sheen, Nebraskans wake to clarion fields voiced. A loyal guest calls, it's the Sa......

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...Written: August 09, 2023, Why Are We Here Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker _________________________________________________......

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...Blessed art thou that believes, kneel before Thee Morn and night our eynes unfolded on Thee Lest we stagger or plop by the wile trap To Thee we knock, drop the badger unwrapped Creeds from ......

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...Crumpled Thoughts They wait – in hues of vibrating silence - Like leftover orts of rumpled paper wimples On creased clandestine journal pages – Bent scraps of wrinkled inspiration Smudged mo......

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...Inside an old library of things uncountable clippings, extracts, jottings, and snippets. ‘things’ nothing can be excluded yes the air is musty, thickly clothed, muffled and club fingered, ......

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...State of the Art (II) These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. What the Poet Sees by Michael R. Burch What the poet sees, he sees as a swimmer ~~~......

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...Poems about Flight, Flying, and Birds Flying by Michael R. Burch I shall rise and try the bloody wings of thought ten thousand times before I fly... and then I'll sleep and waste te......

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...SURVEILLIOCENTRICHOSPIDROME Sanctuary of my deepest thoughts (Fill me with you r everence sustain) My Inner Sanctum for peace of mind (Where the heart meets with my soul and brain) Ninth......

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...Poems about Poems (II) Kin by Michael R. Burch for Richard Moore 1. Shrill gulls, how like my thoughts you, struggling, rise to distant bliss? the weightless blue of skies that are no......

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...Poems about Poets I The Wonder Boys by Michael R. Burch for Leslie Mellichamp The stars were always there, too-bright cliches: scintillant truths the jaded world outgrew as baffled poet......

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...Kin by Michael R. Burch for Richard Moore 1. Shrill gulls, how like my thoughts you, struggling, rise to distant bliss— the weightless blue of skies that are not blue in any atmosphere,......

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...Memories hunker behind a door marked “Blessed Oblivion”. The key is under the mat. To choose one, open and peek inside would be a foolish flagellation. Secrets simmer in cannibal pots, lids......

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...I WISH I WEREN’T AN ANT by JOHN M. ARRIBAS I wish I weren’t an ant, my survival rate is scant Done in by a pesticide, or a shoe, as I gallivant A solitary figure, when I roam, I am seldom ......

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...How many Mary Celestes sail On the uncharted oceans of your mind? How many lost souls vainly flail To clamber on board, how many left behind? So many unvisited ports Beckon, tantalize and tea......

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...When the unforeseen mistrel swipes the land, tiny warriors trudge against the force. “Back down! Retreat!”, the general commands. T......

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