Stubs Poems - Poems about Stubs

...The flickering light as if fireflies' laughter echoes the summer air. Rides spun dizzying merry-go-round! Can't wait for more minutes ahead. A thrill to feel is here to stay around. Sweaty palm......

Continue reading...

...The Ferris wheel, a spoked and sputtering crown, Pinned back the velvet dark. We paid our fee In crumpled bills, bought passage to the town Where gravity forgot to work its shift for me. Neon stu......

Continue reading...

...Cheap ale pools in a Styrofoam cup. She’s barefoot in gravel, anklet flashing beneath the floodlamps. Pickup window ajar, radio blaring “Friends in Low Places.” Her jeans slung low, hips ma......

Continue reading...

...Katie’s ribs pressed against her skin, the sharp angles of a body once soft. She lifted her blouse, let me see— the stubs, the little bumps, two perfect incisions smooth as marble. I swallowed. ......

Continue reading...

...Miss Gladys the Welcome Wizard lady is here She is full of sass, beyond an insane level of cheer No one wants to let her in, we try to ignore the bell She climbs in the front window, demolishing t......

Continue reading...

... Numb…jammed like rows of canned sardines, bodies avoiding faces labeled as print, ticket stubs, and coats on a 7 pm bullet train bound for home along dim lights on railways : shadows gaze bl......

Continue reading...

... As a child I was warned that if I looked at the light for too long it would send me blind and yet the stuttering flash and eerie blue light from an arc welder that crackled deep inside the......

Continue reading...

... The space is smaller than what was measured by memory, the stained glass windows much less vibrant compared to what glowed brightly in the light of back then. The pews have been worn down ......

Continue reading...

...Wrapped in a secret day of thoughts, I pondered, If I should overturn my soul, to wear it on my face as a garment. Would it have unfolded with stitch and patch apparent, Or perhaps its embodiment ......

Continue reading...

... Depression is a shape poem A difficult one in times of contemplation A shape that gets you, almost in nothingness Whispers darkness in the valley of your chest. Where the minaret stood in t......

Continue reading...

...her honeycomb hair was dripping with saccharine. The most liquid hair in all of Ohio, especially Ackron. I laughed myself sick when it was sliding down her neck And her back, down her legs onto th......

Continue reading...

... When you are five going on six, you don't need answers to all the great questions, you want small snacks of info. Mum clutches a glass in her hand, it's not orange juice, or any drink I am fa......

Continue reading...

...What can you save when you go the grave? The answer, my friend’s, not a thing, Yet the way we behave (and so few of us cave) Is to add to mementos and cling. The clothes out of style we’ve not ......

Continue reading...

...I was an active and happy person, whose sole hobby was collecting treasures, As night collects vast amounts of silver, with its precious moonlight measures. I loved to amass unusual items, like f......

Continue reading...

...As long as I can remember came Christmas cards in December - my aunts back home to thank. With glad tidings at yuletide and always tucked away inside a cheque from Barclays......

Continue reading...