Papyrus Poems - Poems about Papyrus

When you have to bury your brother but there's nothing left to cover push the frigid snow to the side. Scoop some up in your freezing hands. Make a snowball. Throw it at your face like he used to do. Smile for him so wide your face is stuck like that forever. When you have to bury your brother but there's nothing left to...

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Oh, how I miss a live audience! But writing humor to the stillness of-the night? Like talking to a picket fence. The laughter is simply not there! Reminds me of something I so Despise...canned laughter. So infinitely dead and dry. I look at the moon and howl, to a empty, papyrus sky. Doing live comedy, now that was a thrill, you see? But comedy on paper,...

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So, let it be written, so let it be done. At the Pharaoh’s order the old scribe wrote recording his words one by one. A thin sheet of papyrus was where he took note as he read back what was said by rote. He sat in the corner wearing only loin cloth facing death if displaying signs of sloth. To him a...

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delicate waving papyrus of the nile egypts writing plant...

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sentences colors purple pencils wrote paper books covered in red bleeding heart type computer calculations daunting papyrus books covered in red termites fed ate the paper paper wrote a book 5/20/18 written words by James Edward Lee Sr. Copyright © 2018...

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"Papyrus, Lapis Lazuli and the Valley of the Kings - Part 2" Rush... the sound of the wind licks her ears, bites her neck, stings her lips the deep heat caresses her hips brandishes, burns into her skin travels around her without and within Materialising into radiant light where whites are whiter than white above her spectacularly clear blue, brighter than bright she...

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"Papyrus, Lapis Lazuli and the Valley of the Kings - Part 1" “Tell me about the Valley of the Kings”, her lips moved speaking to someone, sitting somewhere on the other side of the Glass Onion, she hit enter and waited and waited it was clearly evident, they were not to be baited. The Sun outside...

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Don’t be nervous, Nor do you grieve, Oh, Bard, soothe , In life’s destined gloom. True, Callous have ages been, To man and beast the same. Often did he trample, Many a mass massively. Leaving no marks Of compassion , Still, in papyrus Did he found The last bliss . Moods, thoughts, Passions and instincts Had its due blend In pure minds, For meager words To turn immortal, For...

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