Fishing Prose Poetry Poems

Yellow Words—Used 10 times in the poem

Under the warm yellow sun
floating on the calm Yellow Sea
fishing for the sweet tasting yellow fin tuna.
My mouth waters...

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I am not only a dog mom
I am a puppy mom
fishing strange sounding things out of his mouth
It sounded like he was crunching down on...

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Captain Mars left the wheel to Sarge, first mate
I have to check the lower deck, he said.
If I am not back in twenty minutes, I...

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Economic Disparity created during the Corona Phase 


Death equalizes all at the end 
But sufferings are hugely different.
There cannot be any comparison 
Between the daily...

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I reach for my fishing tackle box.
Deeply hidden is the photograph of Nathalie.
For two days I knew her, but have fantasized for fifty years.
She stays...

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When you feel sad,
without flame, without desire
with nothing ...?
Don't go walking around
desperate...
Don't go out for
there blaspheming ...
Go to the park ...
become yourself a boy,or girl
dress...

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Sea at Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer
Van Gogh sat staring at the choppy waters
Nothing yet? His brother asked. He did not reply.
He was in artist mode.
Picked up a...

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Her parents’ patterns were easy to learn.
Mom did the cooking, cleaning, laundry.
Working nonstop from the minute she woke
To the minute she fell exhausted into bed....

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food, god, and the universe as you
You are the universe (I insist and will prove it)
So say grace before you eat ...
You agree we are...

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The Sandless Sand Castle

Let me tell you about my eldest brother.

I am: the "Scram!", the "Beat it!", the "What you looking at?!", and the "Turn...

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Have you woken up by a river?
One within the forbidden woods.
A tent, for two. Sleeping bags.
The stream, rushing over golden sand.
I could hear the trees...

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The Prize 
The bobber floats, but when it dips, my heart skips for hooked lips. The line tightens, the tug is strong, I reel in....

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I remember those lazy days of summer
when we rode away on horseback
down dusty, deserted country roads;
took our shoes and socks off;
neared the trail to the...

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Poet:  Ken Jordan 
Poem:  Cotati 
Edited by:  Sparkle Jordan 
written:  October/2017

Cotati 
Is
simply 
simplicity profound. 

A lost in time 
picturesque throwback town.

Call...

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My nails grow longer in the heat,
I like to keep them short, hands and feet,
pedicure and manicure by the girls in Phuket,
they give you more,...

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