Write. Poems

A Flutter

   The books left
   Flying out
   All the words sliding
   Leaving the pages
   As the books took flight

   No words left to describe the night
   Fluttering with stiff covers
   Pages falling/fading with the light
   Fires took our

We write poetry : Part Two

We write poetry (2)

I love what you stand for,
That’s why I gave you a ring.
Then after the phone call,
And a couple of years,
I gave you a ring again, 
As you wiped away the tears.

And the two of us wed,
And slept together in our bed,
In our wonderful home.
We are no longer alone.
We are the lucky ones,
And

We write poetry : Part One

We write poetry. (1)

If you and I ever made a life,
And time went by and we never realized,
That we shouldn’t be, could we be happy?
Could you and I raise a family?
And raise a child,
And teach the world to keep the language wild,
But never offensive, 
No sitting on fences.
Too poor to learn fencing,
But constantly mending the

Prostitutes and Lovers

I. Prostitutes 
Poets words are prostitutes,
Used for any writer’s pleasure,
‘Love’ and ‘death,’ ‘light’ and ‘dark,’
Among my worst offenders.

Unlike a painting’s virgin virtue,
With shapes like never seen before,
In colours just that very shade,
Unique in each of form.

Love and death are my whores too,
Whose rates are precious pain,
Never free the words we use,
Piercing time and time again.

II.

Hidden Feelings

I hid my feelings,
but whenever I saw you
they poured out like a fountain—
a sudden sparkle,
a beauty I couldn’t contain.

Our Song in Pink and Gray

our song is me writing- 
"poetry about those stolen stares
songs about that beaming smile
and even a whole film script about it"
the ink of my pen bleeds in pink
but later turns to gray
i weave our memories as part of a big story
with a climax in which you
devoured me with a kiss
but the falling action sets me

Footle Right Write

Footle

Right Write
Pithy withy

The Sky Today

I need to write about the sky today
for oft I pen as to my turgid past;
I look towards the heaven, lo, it's gray
the fresh dawn's shining yellow-purple hues
long surpassed by darkening clouds of hate
but is there ever beauty in the news?
Perhaps, but mostly hidden deep of late.
Ominous clouds of thunder threaten storms;
and lightning strikes in

history

The Letter

It started with finding the letter.
Sifting through the trunk in the attic.
Smelling of sweet rose water.
Faded yellow with time.
The paper folded and worn.

My Dearest Love,
Despite the violence surrounding you,
The demons you say haunt your dreams,
Being in constant fear of what you have done and seen,
I understand how you would feel like you are crazy sometimes.

I

Ilene Can Write

My fellow poet Ilene can write.
I look for all her new poems on this site.
To read her work is surely a delight.

Being a resident of New Jersey,
seeing how she expresses herself is easy.
Ilene is so adept at poetry.

I Can : TSE

Could I
do this
here goes
I’ll try
to make
some sense
for you.

It might
be hard
to write 
some words
that rhyme
But this 
will do.

So now
I think
it could
be done
I’m half
way there
you see.

This one
is last
and that
my friend
is all
you’ll get
from me.

Rant: Inevitability

Rant: Inevitability
by Michael R. Burch

This is a prophetic poem about the triumph of real poetry over its current poor imitation.

There is change in the wind; there is change in the sea
preternaturally strange with her myriad eyes—
stars mirrored in waves. Compelled by the moon,
whipped to foam, she is drawn into restive tides
rising and cresting as kestrels

Once upon a rhyme'

Twitter now has changed in name, life ever
Altering though ages the same.' On my once
Active account, i had a great surprise.! The
Former King Salman appreciated, the writes 
That through me God put out..I never forget
The honour I felt, with Him being from the
'muslim belt'

Right Light

delight bright copyright

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