Room Poems - Poems about Room

you saw me wrong. upside down, like a bible turned over in the hands of a sinner. i saw you the way a dog sees a thunderstorm. head tilted, waiting for it to pass, or for the sky to split open. you in that gown, standing like a kid who just learned what shame feels like. i almost said something soft. almost reached out. but then i remembered...

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A young fellow back east in Lahore was making out with his girl on the floor. Said she "This floor is too hard. Let's go out in the yard and in front of the neighbors next door!"...

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the calm here is filled with your presence i feel your energy come over me as it lingers in the air i breathe and paints a warm smile upon my face i do not feel alone it's surreal how there is hovering that's tangible between the two dimensions meanwhile this still looks much like a processing plant but feels to me more like a...

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C-oming H-ome A-gain R-eally L-ets E-mpty N-ook E-xperience P-ure A-nd S-olid C-heerfulness, A-s S-orrow I-s O-ver ©bfa051725 Monocrostic (Birthday of Charlene Pascasio) ...

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I drift off to sleep, As I walk to the beach, I see the glow of the moon. What a beautiful sight, When I dream in this lonely old room. This room of white, Not a soul nearby, Only nurses who roam the halls. This room of white, Almost like a tomb. Oh, my dreams, The place I yearn for, My true love is Italy. Yet I...

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I found a room that shadows knew, A hush so deep, where nothing grew To hold their hands and not implore— It was the room without a door. No wind could pass the window seam, No morning broke my spell of dreams, And time stood still along the floor, Inside the room without a door. The walls were soft with dusk and rain, They...

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i did my worst to do my best to lose into the writers blocks of better ways building an ink well i got no time to fancy this just helps you up your literacy nonsense who understands the politicians? more criminals and oh well im absurd, thats a freedom comedy is great, its meaning-less than other things...

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Line of inquiry: “as we passed her she did wilt which caused in us sense of guilt since our stance perhaps did cause to put her heart’s joy on pause though we’re gentle, not hostile we diminished her soul’s smile since our aura as she viewed scent of love did not exude” ----------------------------------------- captivating my every illusive thought. I detected sadness in her lovely eyes. the silent...

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cold moon… trouble me not with your naked eye dark tears of light you liquefy and bathe in blood slow western crawl capture breath upon god’s wall a winter’s river sweet black as stone in me your darkness flows alone dispossession life is war an unsound calm defines your core so out of place we wander wane the scent of...

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leave room in your heart for even more love like cracks in old stone still reaching above what’s broken can bloom if you give it the air what’s heavy can heal if you’re willing to care don’t seal every door don’t stitch every seam some hands were made to rebuild your dreams leave room in your heart even battered and rough there’s always more light if you leave it enough...

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The reading skills of many men it’s said, would improve significantly in the “reading room” when seated with the printed page, and facilitate that daily regularity most needed to prevent stubborn constipation with an easy smooth evacuation much less improve or alleviate a halting grunting vocabulary. To what extent he has success that is anyone's guess. ...

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Lillian’s Echo Lillian sat in the dayroom’s dim embrace—a survivor etched in time. The air clung to stories, whispered secrets, and the lingering scent of suffering. She, the one-character legend, spun her tales—prose blabber, raw and unfiltered. Born into the system’s cold arms, Lillian emerged onto Brooklyn’s unforgiving streets as an adult. There, she tasted the bitter...

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In the labyrinth of warmth, I sought refuge in the cold room of frozen memories, From the cold room, I fled to the coffin of unspoken promises, And from the coffin? Only the bare hands of time bury constellations in the soul, Though coffins are perhaps the cheapest homes in real estate listings, No cell is lonelier than a...

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They never saw me—not really. Only the outline I traced in the halls, A whisper of denim and shy glances, A ghost who smiled too politely. They passed notes like grenades, Laughed too loudly When the silence was breaking me. I wore their words like a second skin— Tight, blistering, But invisible to them. You asked if I was okay once— But your eyes flicked away Before...

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How many times have we met? I don't have thick skin if I were to come under the needle of a vet; barf would linger on clothes that aren't yet washed down by the hose of a zoo attendant. The span of your ears sweeping back the stench I exude with perspiration, thanks, elephant. My rumbly gut on your gut, your...

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