Pages Poems

Blank Pages

There is something about blank pages

Distinct from the ink-stained ones

The sheer thought my mind wages-

It is a street: long and of many turns

For it is criminal not to scratch a pen

On a perfectly white sheet, you see-

But it is wise to leave it alone when

Blank is what the page wants to be.

Torn Pages

I see the throbbing bass and liquid windswept flute in colorful everyday accompaniments companions really helping guiding finding myself quite champed as I weave through parallel realms not commonly accessed by learned energy observing interacting always respectful as I understand these entities exist to expand my mind chasing swallowtail butterflies and the aliens among us

The White Pages

Before technology, to find
A number, you would look
In a pretty big directory 
Of names bound in a book.

There were two types - the yellow pages 
Listed business phones
And the white-paged paperback contained
Your personal unknowns.

The names were alphabetical 
And had a home address,
Plus the number for the telephone
To dial (not to press!)

We have a copy from

Empty Pages

The blank page
waits.

Not empty!
full of words
not yet written,
poems
not yet born.

Every line
holds a secret,
every space
a song.

I stare
at white paper
and see
everything

I could say
but haven't
said yet.

The page
is patient.
It knows
some
thing
wants
to come out.

All the poems
that might be
live here
in the quiet
before
the first word
falls.

In an old book, with torn pages, my soul navigates through labyrinths of dreams

In an old book, with torn pages, my soul navigates through labyrinths of dreams,
seeking the hidden story in the silence between the lines, where words were never written,
I try to fill the gaps with the silence of stars dancing on the sky of oblivion,
believing I understand the story that flows like an unseen river through

Fly Off the Pages

    Why can’t we learn beforehand
        life lessons we learn afterwards

     Not grounded in experience
        words fly off the pages like birds

Messages Through Pages

R-eading
E-very
B-ook's
E-ducational 
C-ontent
C-learly
A-dds

B-rilliant 
U-nderstanding,
E-nhancing
R-eason
A-nd
N-ew
O-utlook

©bfa060125
Monocrostic (Birthday of Rebecca Buerano)

Pages From Decrepit Seasons

Before midnight ticks, I turn to my 
    interior world ,
One that cradles myrhh
of reminisces  and sagas,
Allowing breaths to inhale the agony
and radiance of loved ones' trails
now beyond my physical reach--

Watching the decrepit portraits on 
   the foyer,  July air greets the dew
on blossoms, monarchs flitting in my

My Words

As my words "cascade" off my tongue,
onto the "myriad" of blank pages.
Each letter will slowly "slither,"
slither into a "serpentine" of sentences.
As I stop to read,
will the pages "lilt" to me?
With tired eyes I see a "nebula" bright night,
as I look out my huge window at the "lunar" light.

Pages Turn

Pages turn, as new cycles start,
Agree with our Maker, hear His heart.
In our daily solitary space,
Step beyond and hear the sound of the race.

See anew, learn to relate afresh,
If doubt remains, do not rush!
Press in prayer, let persistent faith arise,
And watch the impossible vaporize.

Reposition our hearts, stride onwards ahead,
Claim the inheritance for which we were

tuesday morning, pages 78 and 79

tuesday morning, pages 78 and 79

pulled back on the book i was reading
as if its yawn was bigger 
than the one i had borrowed from you
only an hour earlier

we both laughed
remembering the days when you 
touched one elbow
to the other behind your back
and challenged me
knowing it would never happen

it was raining when you left
then looked

UNREAD PAGES

If you knew the weight I bear, 
You'd hear the screams beneath my stare.
I light the dark yet feel so cold,
Like a silent tale that's never told.
Of shining silver and glittering gold,
Of a burning past in letters bold.
It has been long, it has been ages,
since a soul has touched these unread pages.

Pages of Diary

the pages of my diary hold the memories-
memories of you being cold and warm,
memories of that mysterious smirk,
and the day you deserted me

i unfurled the white flag
and surrendered on my knees
you started this war
and kept on stabbing me

this war is our love affair
illicit from the moment it began
yet, i believed in you and 'this love'
still

Pages

i stitched my heart
into quiet lines,
shared them here
one post at a time
but this isn’t just a page
it’s a place i begin
a dream once whispered
now asking for wings

Friends!
I've created an Instagram page and it's -
almost.thirty.barely.grown

I also have a GoFundMe going for my debut book which I will need help funding! I will share the link here,

Blank White Pages

I never reached out for your hand—
Fingers interlacing, hearts intertwining.
My words blistered on my tongue,
And I tucked the unanswered glances 
Back into silence,
Like love letters never sent.

What do I do with the love I couldn't give?
I'll bleed it onto blank white pages,
Ink running from my arteries.
My stanzas will contain
The glory of my memories,
And my metaphors

• Short Pages Poems
• Famous Pages Poems
• Best Pages Poems
• Read Pages Poems
• Long Pages Poems
• Pages Quotes