Past(A) Poems - Poems about Past(A)

Each day, I walk past a lingerie store. In the windows are posters of women I adore. Looking at them makes me feel so glad because each of them is scantily clad. Mannequins wear items of silk, satin, and everything nice. Some of those things are on clearance at reduced price. There is an especially large-sized bra they've got. It reminds me...

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OF LIVES PAST a haibun prose envelope Perfection is an illusive pastime ,an unending quest that hides delusion in uncharted waters on life's path.Distractions,obstacles spring up unannouced, by chance,opportunities deflate in despair.Again,again,the siren's call. beckons innocent naivety,nothing is simple one is alive. uniquely ourselves littered by our obsessions- loneliness cries out One is alive ,each day, breathing,eating living, yet separate,...

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driving past a wish parking in the neighborhood of go enjoying the view of there smiling fully at the fact that here i am nothing beats the feeling it send my heart reeling my head can now be cleared only to be refueled by cloud angels of enticement here i leave the blinds and curtains open all day here i leave the bedroom...

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I meander past a rippling stream, my hair blowing in the wind; was that my name been called . . . softly. did it sigh in the tangled trees above, I twirl and swirl to only bird songs; my name is but an echo . . . whispering. I wake suddenly in my hospital bed, lost in a sea...

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whistling past a graveyard Devil may care, but I have no regard I walk among granite tombstones six feet below are boxes full of bones I find myself in a dark, dark room only to realize it's a witch's tomb gravedigger has bodies to retrieve on this night, Saint Hollow's Eve...

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I placed a mirror behind me, So it could see where I was going. Was truly tired of its daily invitation, To look at just me again and again. I walked that day beyond self-center, Away from an isolated cold that was only me. Moving ever so surely within a drifting warmth; Then arms I'd never known began their embraces. I was watching...

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Russian melodies are haunting The USSR has faded into dust The menorah lights shine as usual but tiimes have certainly changed As Tolkien pointed out (paraphrasing) there is a "new...

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