Art Youth Poems

'My mum will not speak above a low whisper in public because she doesn't want to draw attention to herself.'
Richard C. Armitage

"Whisper, we're in church,"...

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Birds are meant to fly, so as I
Sky is meant to be open, so as I
Rainbows are meant to be colorful, so I
Memories are meant...

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You still expect more running after all works
Seeking for freedom at random to be castoff
You become aliens ruthless mindful of gifts
You care not about blood,...

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The tulips in the vase, 
   a clan of lassies fair.
      Their buds they hold the gold, 
...

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Old Boy

In the valley
Of my soul
Lives a boy
Who never grows old

The kid’s a keeper
Of my regrets
He holds the key
To all my secrets

He opens the book
Of...

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The poem I never wrote is so majestic
So supreme so dope not rhyme infested
Winged white words are simple yet complex
Causing maroon mind dimple hazel happiness

This...

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Written on 10 September 2023 For:
Vanilla Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charlotte Puddifoot


              ...

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Pondering The Sad And Fateful Decision

there he sat
his brain peddling along
heart fluttering in space
and that bright summer sky kissing his face
mind recalling trouble
her face appears
she...

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True Tragedy Whenever A Great Romance Dies

She was my beautiful flower, her soft colors enthralling me
Breathtakingly sweet her most tender kisses and warming hugs
I had...

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I wake up for this country again?
Well it's not my fault, maybe it's God who deserves the blame.
Out of a 100 people in my country,...

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I
a low buzz,
maybe a hum? under
my note.
I hear it—see it.
give up the piece
or keep it,
     keep it.

art with children, new, gray.
Blessed...

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Wicked Queen, Her Darkness Hidden Behind Her Veil

Vacancy of high upper air, rarified ghosted hearts too.
Of frosted heathens in place, none are wearing mad hatter...

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Honey-Child That Sweet-Spun Gift, You Don't Want To Miss

She cried, "Please write a sonnet that bites my butt"
Dear poet, I give you whiskey, my mouth...

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When Ocean Dries Up Will Be A Bad Plight


In that old house something seemed not right,
the hammer hits the nail right on the head.

The moon...

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The Untruth Of A Lone And Erroneous Prophecy


What has a prophetic death done to this poor soul
the merest thought of sleeping under freshen sod
stir the...

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