Penultimate Poems - Poems about Penultimate

In the misty milepost of the penultimate pathway, at the faded fringe of the future obscure, the waning tune of vibrant chromatic strings of the setting sun in the twilight zone, reverberates the requiem for the skeletal tree, defoliated forlorn, silhouetted tranquil against the sundown skyline of transient radiance, witnessing despondent the last sand grain mark the trail of destiny in the cauldron of time, illumined by the final flash...

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As the final glimpse of the sun leads into an everlasting spectacle of twinkling dreams, peeking through turmeric traces of an amber aftermath, I listen to the nesting nightingales croon nostalgic lullabies, and search for a celestial ray that would illustrate, the beginning of butterflies ...

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e e cummings 'AFTER FIVE'      vi6vii7viii8 Slyvi Plath ' CANDLES '    ()  ()  ()   |  | || |  |...

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What is life? but a clutching for dear life to a cotton ball dipped in sweet nectar a wounded butterfly grasps, finally able to drink his measure sugar rushing to it's wings, it looks somehow stronger, prouder ready to face it's brief existance, for whatever it may be worth for what is a butterflys life if not soaring through a...

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Break free from the love madness You claim your heart feels In the sea of sadness From which common sense heals If you give him the chance He needs to weed you out Of the love stance Which beyond a shadow of doubt If from your tilted and stilted circumstance You wish to snap To restore the balance You wish to inject into the notorious nap Where...

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And would I write of all the lesser staples of the trivia that pass before my mind while history is borne--it is of man, the swell of glory in his chest. The ages pass before him, he to stand, select the argument, the passion in it-- he to put in place demand, a price, a crest to rule when time slows down...

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new fastfood place opened mcstiltskie's "stuff you make at home that we make for you" nice, i'll take a large kool-aid and two pb&j's. $7.69? no thanks, skank....

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Till my life goes off, Till I stop hearing your mellowing voice, Till my body gets withered, Till my voice is out of moisture, Till my eyelids stop fluttering, Till I stop gaping at the nature, Till my blood gets cold, Till my heart stops throbbing, Till my lips become shrivelled, Till my eyes become dry, Till I fade into your lap, Till I exile into...

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The penultimate day of 2011 Pale winter sky, green landscape and the far mountain is dark blue…the air is so clear I can see white cottages on the slopes where they have goats and make cheese. There is stillness, but I hear cars rushing by on the main road and if I stand on my toes I can...

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