Poetry Blogs (Poetry)

Poetry - Poem by Marie

I do it in the Bed room do it in the hall 
I have also done it leaning on a wall 
I tried it in the grass even on the beach 
There is no where sacred or out of reach 

I just love writing POETRY all day 
seems that in verse I have a lot to say 
just jot it all down, then re read 
poetry is my food, I eat with such greed

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Because I wrote it dont judge, its not me

I wrote lots about the killer look i am still free

A poem calls out in my head 

I write fast flowing then put it to bed 

Any subject i am known to write 

From love in an disused mine

To the ups and downs of a swine

Read me enjoy me but please 

Its not me, i just like to tease 

Enjoy the poem dont take it to heart

As specially ...

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Drowning in the Drought

At times I drip with poetry

The words simply pour out of me

A flow it seems no dam could ever stop

Until, I’m drowning in the drought

A flood of tears and mere self-doubt

That withers, in the barn, my finest crop.

17.1.2020

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Some days there is not enough

chocolate or booze 

to chase away the blues 

or stop torrential thoughts of love 

gone too soon. 

What's a lonely girl to do.

Cry?

Boohoo. 

The only thing that eases the pain 

is music from silent words 

thought to be penned in vain. 

https://youtu.be/BmyK_b4DCH4

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Dear John,

Thank you for remembering 

the forgotten ones,

for seeing beauty within. 

You are a hero 

to lovers among men,

a poet’s poet, 

the razor’s edge...

Long may you live. 

https://youtu.be/VOgFZfRVaww

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You pen beautiful poems,

revealing hurts, worries,

secret desires of your soul.

Dancing on high wires,

creating cosmic alchemy,

then your words

are gone in a blink.

You must be using

disappearing ink!

https://youtu.be/lpsThfIqp18

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And tides are still the same as they were,
fluid numbers, one piece in folded milions,
telling us why we all need to reach the bottom,
embracing drops of broken brilliance.

Wait until it all comes down,
your whispers rest in front of the broken Avalon,
inside our shell is something we all found,
blue-red pictures reflected by the dawn.

And tides are still the same as they were,
connec...

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Through the cuts of snares, nothing to rest till the evening swallows, these counterband thoughts, so wicked and hollow, that they make my heart full of pulse and out they go and strums the kingdom of never coming down boost, never to be me

so chased by gates that alter the heights, and by memories that sweep, or of a different time, whichever came first, only I was speeding against the horns o...

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Staring into the East

I can see you stumbling back to me.

The stench of oil on your breath like liquor,

blood money lines your pockets like lint.

Terror color codes hang from your eyelids

the same way nooses hung from trees.

Watch the bodies ebb and flow

as they sway in the breeze.

Arms tatted up with childhood images of your

American dreams but

your body has bec...

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