Poetry Blogs (hopes)
Paul Sayer on A false call to the police but they were not caught out (1 hour ago)
My anklets fill the air with resounding laughs
As I scuttle between tall blades of grass.
I feel free
Like I'm the breeze.
A yearning dream
Lounges among the clouds.
Her hand caresses my cheek,
I feel safe and sound.
Did I tell you that I feel free?
Free from the restraint of a rhyme scheme;
Free from structure;
Free from obsessions
Like a speck of dust on a t...
Friday 31st July 2020 8:14 pm
Resistance is futile.
You will not find rest
as long as I am near,
whispering in your ear.
STOP, right now.
Talk about how
in the valley of
Share your hopes,
ready to bathe you,
I am your muse,
voice of truth,
Tuesday 28th July 2020 5:17 pm
The evening sun scorches the shade.
The trees, in their glade, are forced to choose;
Stand tall and brave - or turn to crave
the cool safety of the dusk.
Like soldiers from another age, they are proud and tall,
Defenders of nature with their all.
Their bark tells the story, of seasons full of change.
Frost. Ice. Mud. Heat. Few, then a lot... of peoples feet.
Sunday 20th October 2019 9:57 pm
I wish I could have no troubling thoughts or considerations,
And that I felt only pleasing sensations.
I wish I could have more self-esteem.
And that I could live the loveliest dream.
I wish that in strife I could stay strong,
And that I could right every wrong.
I wish all problems I could correct
And all things in life would be perfect.
Sometimes I wish I could depart this...
Thursday 22nd August 2019 6:29 pm
Not all tornadoes
rip and ravage wide swaths
across grasslands, the flat prairies
nor deep into the wet pungent air
of old plantation country.
No! No Joplin nor Tuscaloosa, here.
Thursday 25th April 2019 9:55 pm
My dreams they have died
Buried deep within myself
Hope to renew them
Tuesday 24th April 2018 6:08 pm
Some produce from sleep deprivation...
Eyelids fall and so do we
from this rope a wishful me,
No ground to touch, no cold hard floor
fully circle, no breaks, so sure.
Or is it warm?
Does it cushion the smash?
Cover sharp corners, prevent the thrash?
Then there's the harness
stopping it all,
Those big icey eyeballs
Keeping you cool
I don't want the harness
I just want the fa...
Monday 17th November 2014 8:13 pm
The curtains a cocoon
which I have outgrown
though I dare not venture out
my wings maimed
by an internal eternity.
Some days they open
as the sunlight shines
and snow falls
yet it remains a parallel world
a door to an unfamiliar universe
Even inside plates pile up
like a porcelain possum
Monday 21st January 2013 1:36 pm