Tell Apart Poems - Poems about Tell Apart

...A make-up artist? Um … no thanks. That’s not my kind of courtship caper. I want the girl who wrote a paper on Massachusetts’ failing banks. You can keep your belly-dancer. The nimbleness that......

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...I stare at the sky all day long, wondering if I'll last or be gone, the ocean tides rise till neck can't tell apart life and death......

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... In the garden of memories, a bloom so divine. A mother's love, an eternal lifeline. Reading the holy book, a melody that dawdles on. She was holy and a saint like persona. Through her Guid......

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...I don't have much luck with women Although I've had a few It's not always a pick and choose More of ''He looks doisy he'll do''. They have been as skinny as a lat Or like the cat who got ......

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... Written for the contest "Poe in the style of Plath" sponsored by Tom Woody I am a weakling against supremely star-studded skies Where stolen streams of light are not enough for it t......

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...When you roll the ball to someone You can never know what happens next Most will roll it back in a game that is pleasant but becomes boring Others might demonstrate how clever they are and show ......

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...I ran To escape An evil Year After Year Becoming tired As I could not Out run it So I stopped To face it And die It stripped me Of dignity It humiliated me It mocked me Spat in my fa......

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...There go the Sundersons, someone said with a laugh It was Norris, the notoriously crotchety old man giraffe The triplets, riding their bike, a sight to see said a frog. The ostrich twins were irri......

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...The mind is the devil, not the heart, when in doctor’s garbs, can’t tell apart, an engaging smile, then the death blow, some died real quick, some very slow. the touch was soft, voice saintly g......

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...When a precedent-busting pandemic is palling around the world when its concomitant panic and pain freak out it is your fine figures that are unflinchingly unfurled e'en as proctective gears barel......

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...If there was no poetry. . . the flowers all would wither and lose their pretty hues. No songs would we hear playing -neither happy lyrics nor the blues. If there was no poetry. . the birds......

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...And if my feet don't find their way, if my hands can no longer grasp what they want, if my ears cannot tell apart the songs on the favourite album and my mind forgets that it used to focus— may......

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...Voices from a poets pen Soft ones, loud ones...now and then Speak your tongue, let it be told Let us hear your heart unfold Pen on paper how you feel Then show us all...poet's zeal Told......

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...Cult and trend and recalcitrance I'm from the streets and have seen things But this I have to admit is beyond me It's hunting season and they are all in Pontificating politicians demanding penan......

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...Lingering Hearts It will start on a golden summer's eve, when you see her playing with her hair. A breeze will blow black locks against her face, and her eyes will raise in bemused surprise.......

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