Short Paragraphs Poems

Oceanic tales,
Paragraphs of vivid waves:
Novels of the sea....

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and through moonlit trees,
horror stories resonate:
raucous paragraphs....

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Barack replies to questions
As the overthoughtful do;
What took five seconds to ask
Merits paragraphs....

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10 reps of Haiku curls
10 reps of Irish Ballad presses
3X5 paragraphs of trenchant prose
5X Lyrical lunges
Last 5 minutes: Free range editing gut check...

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postcards
tattered relics
soft paragraphs wailing
faint memoirs languishingly dampened...
boneless


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Precariously personable 
Privately peeved
Parading pompously
Pronouncing pretty paragraphs
Possibly pretending pompousness
Poetic permanence 
Powerfully 
Performed...

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Frank, Der Bingle, Perry and Deano
When lyrics could be understood, amigo
With actual words
Paragraphs and verbs
Could we ever imagine today's insane shows...

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I just need to wrap around you like a poetic syllable, 
       and feel your words
sliding along
. . my paragraphs



_________


* Will you hold me like poetry?? *...

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Partisan dreamer
  audience of one

Killer of grammar
  words on the run

Paragraphs frozen
  the undotted ‘I’

The meaning now freed
  all language denied

 (Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)...

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Hi Soupers, 

Please do read my new short story about the birth of Jesus.  

"MooMoo's Manger Story"


(I don't know how to edit it. I submitted it in paragraphs only, but it has come without any gaps. Sorry about that!)...

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My prose becoming painful,
poetry yet a joy

Explaining has deterred me,
rhyme a favorite toy

Sentences locked and muted,
as couplets run and play

New paragraphs unwritten
—as verse my heart does pray

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)...

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Heart’s Fold

Between the chapters
of before and after---
memorial’s rose

A withered reminder
still holding its scent
caressed in pages
that still remember
love lent

Between the paragraphs
of now and then---
heart’s fold
 
© Debra Squyres 2015...

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The book keeper
mops the slush pile,
dusts paragraphs,
adding a vase of clarity
on the table of contents,
creates settings
for the ghost writer
to slow down
run-on sentences,
mends torn sheets -
Oh, tearsheets…
Anyway,
in the end
wraps a nice soft cover
around everything....

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O circle of poets,
ring of friends,
I've picked up my pad and pen.
To write the words that hang on walls,
I feel has if it is my call.
To fill this world with paragraphs,
a sentence to forever last.
A piece of me to stay behind,
a journey deep within my mind.
When I've no voice my words will scream,
and has you read I've lived my dream......

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Paragraphs of words to be,
written down to fill a need.
Sentences penned forth to read,
hung on walls for all to see.
Explanations of the past,
for the future made to last.
Little words to make us dream,
fantasize cry and scream.
Delivered to us in a grin,
read in ways to chill the skin.
Serious and somtimes fun,
a poets work is never done....

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Words are just poetry on a page 

Music releases the song from its cage

Lyrics are a message but nothing without a tune

The rhythm is the soul that makes our heart swoon

Sentences flow to form the perfect rhyme

Without the beat it cannot make our ears chime

Paragraphs are scribed until the end of eternity

But songs will never truly live without a melody...

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I see you placed on a shelf
My protagonist 
Inky smudge on my heart
Your paragraphs carved
We have laughed and loved 
Through chapters lived
Story cast and relished
My parchment of hope 
Perched higher than the others
Friend of mine bound by leather 
Your pages have shaped me 
Creased and wrinkled
Blemished stained page
I do cry alone
Farewell my story
For our chapter has ended...

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Narrating breaths,
Tell the story of love.
Deep...inhales of desire,
Caress the long exhales of passion.

Warm flesh tales read,
Verbalized by each soft breath.
Paragraphs of Goosebumps,
Traced and translated by the tongue.

The taste of smooth ivory skin,
Satisfies...midnight cravings.
As her ardent veins, 
Throb with excitement...beckoning, 
The initiation of our nightly chapters....

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If there were no words to whisper across your skin,
these eyes would trace every dark shadow and curve
and my breath would linger over your fantasy
- as lips draw lines anywhere you wanted -
because I could show you love,
without sentences touching each other
forming very long paragraphs,
close your eyes
and just
imagine



~ When Evening Falls ~

A Pyramid Poem- 10-1...

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A shredded sky to write from…
Where paragraphs of life spare none…
Behind stars sit reasons…
Answers fall from a colorful season…
As the devil dances and angels sing…
A canvas for three where the words won’t sting…
Arms stretched till my fingertips touch…
Passing shadows of demons that fall through my clutch…
Without one the other will bleed and wither away…
Leaving only a broken poet with nothing to say…...

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Mona Lisa half smile grin
poses lifetimes of too few 
pots to piss in
Still we mingle mangle mutter and mirror our Stalwart egos
so as not to comply with false looks of bliss.
Ignorant gossip useless praise spark drone conversations of 
putrid malaise. Let us try to live open book lives--writing
chapters of truth, paragraphs of love, flowing sentences of 
compassion with periods of long lasting empathy. 
Turn the page....

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What is the subject,behind the object,
or do you see,only what you've trained to see?

Do you go to the produce section of a market
and taste a grape before you make a purchase?

Don't we all test drive a car before we decide to buy?

Won't we read a few paragraphs before buying a book,
pre-trial music before taking it home...

Sometimes,what appears to our eyes,
isn't what we expected...but,
....What do you expect?...

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radiant beams of ethereal light
entrenching in dark deep night
gigantic shadows of the celestial
spheres ,awareness rocking
back and forth ,endless longing
jubilant vibrations rising
waves of pleasure
full voiced harmonies of passion
igniting love joy and hope
blessed are the poor in spirit
heap of broken images
unparalleled energy
long sentences, broad paragraphs
wood winds and strings merging
deaf are hearing again...

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Staring into the written moon
Words illuminating my space
I stand still inhaling syllables
Lost in the story’s embrace.

The pages cast a shadow
Imagination in the shade
Lyrical mating of the mind
A literary serenade.

Trees of erudite branches
Fallen leaves of knowledge
Raking piles into my memory
In hopes of paying homage.

Spellbound by the paragraphs
The smells of inky dew
Entranced by this moment in time
Appreciated by only a few....

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Who really knows?
I certainly don’t.
I can write long lines.
Or I can write very small lines that just end						
abruptly.											         5
I can make a rhyme at any
moment.
It can be a crucial component.

I can write in stanzas,
But those are essentially paragraphs, right?						10
Well, no.
That’s why they are called stanzas.
Stanzas can contain repetition.
Stanzas can also vary in size,
just like lines can.
But mine will be the same in length....

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