Unbleached Poems - Poems about Unbleached

... Those who’ve gone on before me… what I would have liked to have told them – in those unsent letters, those unwritten stories, those unbroken promises, those unsteady poems, those unbleached m......

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...There's a pile of sullied threads on the floor from muddied quarrels of our yesterdays Remnants of life that we stripped bare like sheets from a bed needing laundering It's a hoard of soiled an......

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... Trompe L'oeil I use to be so sure of my colors But now my vision is jaded Perhaps it is obscured from the THOUSANDS of tears I've shed I taught you the primary colors, RED, YELLOW, and BL......

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...The devil’s dry fields dirt farm, not much yields damn sun one forlorn tree shields Texas battlefields the one recline that appeals low water reveals not done no reprieve day’s sun......

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...I sprinkled dry yeast in warm water And watched it bubble up, Then cracked open a fresh laid egg On the edge of a measuring cup. I dumped in a helping of all-purpose flour, A little oil, a pin......

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...I am Liberia! Though scared by scourges of allien spades, My resilience bears the fountain of heaven's grace, Piercing the pangs of all my shades! My independence, I breathed into Africa's lung......

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...I am the potato every pig covets, The circus every Woolf dream to perform in, and The toddler every phidophile crave to live with But non will ever have I am the uncut gem that will ever be r......

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...from younger days to present the sun went from incandescent to LED perhaps lacking a little ozone layer but finding myself lost on a beach covering all of my body with sun screen bu......

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...He stood there, gritted teeth, sword aloft one foot on the slain Gladiator would they let him live honour him with the platinum ring a ring from that albino of metals or would they thrust him......

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...There's a pile of sullied threads from our muddied yesterdays of a life we stripped bare to be thrown into the wash a hoard of soiled toggery too foul to be cleansed I tried to bury ......

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...Unmoving, sweltering, its evening falls, Unrolling slowly a knotty unbleached cotton pall, Turns unceremoniously and exits - the day ending eight years, Eliott's[1] sends a breeze, a silent sc......

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...Just for the Holidays so sweet It is the perfect Christmas treat To make this special cake so fine Just use this recipe of mine Unbleached flour pure and white About eight ounces is just right......

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