Unedited Poems - Poems about Unedited

I'm back. Stood in from of the Marc Chagall That is quietly across the road I don't know what else is quietly sitting just out of my eyeline Whether wraparound sentences are indeed my friend Where am I again? Ahh, here. Experiencing a painting with more within it than I need I love that I don't need all the content Maybe just...

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There's a beach ball stuck in the rafters of the pool It's been there for the 7 years I've been coming here It contains air from the lungs of an unknown person, an essence that rests here though they left and likely never consider the fact I wonder all the places I've left pieces of me Caught sight of...

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first impressions last longer lost in the sands of times last impressions lives forever penned in mind's of men treasured in the rhymes of mines engraved in the tombs pains inscribed in the palms of history tattooed in the art of fame last impressions edit first impressions last impressions uneditable end justifies the means. puncture foes fears broken into pieces of tears guys we want 'd' dough but we won't weigh the...

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I fight a battle against tempestuous wind fury the earth’s ablaze in feverish sky and I survivor search for home ...

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We are of the ground Electricity flows deep inside me You cannot harness it Because I do not know it is there Deep with in And with in comes With everything Attached ti me is a soul Morals that govern my entire existence Profound Power that is indescribable However This I am doing as I am who...

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The air surrounds me brisk. Sounds from the city evoke me. People are nearby but in this moment; I am alone. The chimera close by secure me a halfer. Smoke is now gone but I do not crave for another. You are the one. Only if I allow you how. How to be you. Allowance to he me....

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Why And why now? I can't believe I had told myself you had changed Defending you, against everyone Who told me it would end up this way Angry So angry that the walls we built still stand And we raised the sails and set the ship to sail once more But the wreckage was still there From stormy tides that dragged me down into...

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I wake up to a recurrent vision- This emergent self belongs To body, spirit, and dream. A different kind of measurement Lies at the gates of unchosen. I float a ready channel of grace Within the airy sighs of the pages In the book of blank letters, Where immersion feels fluid To the lovely bones, adroit And counted in their flight. I...

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Poets have a greater capacity to express love and longing painting pictures of passion's pleasures They excite and ignite the imagination That's the beauty of being a poet Poets are so steeped in the need for beauty in wording that they use their talents even in posts Weaving wonder with words they make you believe you are above and beyond the realm of mere mortals you...

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Writing a masterpiece Takes so much effort and thought My mind’s settling in my comfort zone – feed me with flawless peace Words seem to escape me…my feelings mean naught Anger molds me in inside and out…I feel insecure again Peace barely meets my body Joy seems to abandon me like an orphan Faith passed away – it’s buried too far...

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From the first page I open to the book of life Written in fluently opulent language of : A fleeting cloud and crisis-ridden sky In cries of hues and halos The milkyway beyond our horizon suspends the moon That rules the spheres after noon. And the sun accentuating power of the day As dawn gives way for the reign of...

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