Tag: Poem
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Drew Blood
they drew blood, sure enough soliciting my veins as if touched by a dirty homeless person the thread of string winced and jumped back trying to avoid the inevitable
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seven inches
seven inches me got last night seven inches and a slight chip more old man winter speaks me tells ‘im to shut it me clutches his neck and throws him all asea seven inches last night me thinks I shall have seven more tonight
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Paducah by Tel
*Tel wrote a brilliant poem posted in the comments section of my poem, “Goodbye, Lincoln Nebraska” that I thought was too cool not to share. Thanks to Tel for being a good sport and an even better writer.* Goodbye, Paducah Kentucky with your run down buildings lining a boring riverside. When the floodwaters come, even…
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Olden Times
I’m not sure anyone will necessarily think this is funny but it amused me. If you want a good time, go back to your old emails and read them. Share them. To: MedicatedLady From: Poeticgrin Date: 2/21/05 MEMO: It has come to my attention that some members of this staff feel that it is professional…
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Draft
The first draft is the only one that matters Raw is reality Refined is bullshit Or so I say At times when I am being difficult. At times when I am being difficult I say Refined is bullshit Raw is reality The first draft is the only one that matters.
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Feeling of Feeling
This is what I forgot I make things intimate Putting my hand on a man’s face A man’s neck I like the feeling of feeling him Without fail he closes his eyes I imagine the only thing on his mind is the touch of my skin on his The weight and tremor of my hand…
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No Punctuation for Good Measure
this is not a poem exactly just thoughts broken by lines and no punctuation for good measure this is not a coherent whole poem and prose welded and molded fused together in harmony ……… Let me tell you. Thursday marks our one-year anniversary. We met at Julie’s, after my class (it was…
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Welcome
If I wished at all I’d be content from here on From now until then It was cold out, and he came to cook for me. The warmth of the oven did not compare to the warmth in my feet and gut. We pretended to work together as an excuse to get closer, him…
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Autumn of My Youth
the leaves are red turning brown dying down the wind blows a little less fresh my cheeks are paler now instead of thickening my skin is becoming thin my dreams and disappointments more transparent with each intake of breath there’s a shudder of fear that nothing will come out where youth ends life life is…
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Clogged
Clogged Mired in mucus Weighed down by infection and affliction Is there anything to be done?
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