Poetry Blogs (short poem)

It doesn’t matter how many years I have passed breathing oxygen 

What matters is my urge to play with the wind
as I oscillate through the swing 

And the force with which I exhale out my laughter

when those voices tickles my senses

And I feel as if I am still roaming around
In the streets of my childhood 

Somewhere looking for those pebbles
That were actual treasures of my li...

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I come to at half past three
in the middle of the night
and these images won't erase
I'm haunted by the tape
once it is light
your hands disappear
my brain is mine
and my limbs come crawling back
but the tape keeps playing
I know there's no escape
because night always falls
then I fall into you
and my mind leaves me
with no thoughts left to think
I make my way
the void is frictionle...

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Right me thus.

Write me this.

Write, to right a wrong.

Write me a poem.

Wrong the line of a song.

For I am forlorn (and want to be adorned).

Write it down.

Right me now.

Write me now.

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There is comfort in the creaking of the stairs.
Each creak guiding, reminding you of your place
Between the rise and the run
The rhythm within the space.
There is comfort in the creaking of the stairs.

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{Shy Guy}

He was a little bit of

a shy guy who seemed

to keep to himself

besides talking to a

few of his co-workers

where he worked at 

And as the neighbor

next door to him saw

him all the time he

reminded her of a

cute fuzzy bear that

played in stars wars

called ewok because

his cheeks was

roundish oval shaped

with a some hair ar...

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{What Is This?} 

What is this game we call life 

And how do you win 

And how do you survive 

And how do you make it out alive

And do we use pawns 

And do we have check mates 

And you say that my heart will do just fine

Or will this game we call life will I make it out alive 

And only in due time will tell me if I shall survive 

©Tina Glov...

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Praise me if you wish

For yesterdays dish

The meal you did not finish

The sauce your spoon would not tarnish

The dinner you did not touch when it was fresh

Saying now this dish smells of Melville's fish

Do not consume the meal when the chef's gone to bed

Pay me no compliments after the dogs are fed

Who wants recognition after they’re trodden;

After they are gallows led?

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{When I Am A Sleep Or Awake} 

When I am a sleep or awake I dream of you all the same 

©Tina Glover All Rights Reserved/ One_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer Originally written in 2016 but posting here on February 15,2018 

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Love must never be an alone accessory

Love should always be fashioned in pairs.

For it will then be dressed in loveliness -

and thus be exquisite and most fashionable.

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When the sordid moon drools luscious, raw light,

I am the slice of thunder.

Predisposing,

Permeating

Poisoning the placid night.

A feast of anxiety and malady.

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Time is not concrete

Unless we meet

Then it runs free as a child

And all that be still

Be wild

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With my face buried in her hair

And my chest pounding at her breast

I am above the worries of things

Above the money and jewels of kings

Above the common suffering

Above everything

Above it all

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Autumn changes me

I grow stiff as a tree

The falling memories

Are piling all around me

And my color changes

Emptying into grey

I feel broken and cold

As the November rain

Turns into December Snow

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There is comfort in the creaking of the stairs.

Each creak guiding, reminding you of your place,

Between the rise and the run,

The rhythm within the space.

There is comfort in the creaking of the stairs.

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{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #9} {My Shawty}

I am gaga for

you shawty 

`n` 

there's no

body like my

shawty 

`n` 

shawty you

make me fall

for you `n` 

can't you see

what you are

doing to me as

I yell it to the

world around us 

`n` 

my shawty

recuse me from

the cold darkened

waters that I

was drowning in 

`n` 

...

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{Conceit And Vanity Quote #3}

That old 

Billie~Bob 

think's that 

the ⛅ sun

comes up 

just to hear 

him crow 

©One_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Glover originally written on August 3,2016 but posting here on 12/03/2017 all rights reserved

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Dedicated to my parents who I saw share a dance for the first time in ages on holiday.

he said "do you love me now i can dance?"
she replied she would no longer fall for that kinda romance
he said "i can do the mashed potato and the boogaloo too"
she threaten to dump him and tell him they where through
but when he hit the floor
she felt the spark once more
and saw the smile on his face
h...

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I let you all down

               I let myself down

Now it’s time to go

               Time let my thoughts d 

                                                    r 

                                                      o 

                                                        w 

                                                          n 

                                 ...

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I have an ax and a hammer. 
With one hand I fall with the other I foster.
To the rise I fell.
With the fall I prosper.

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Time heals 

but I put my time 

in an ice cube 

and now global warming 

struck and the feelings 

have been let loose

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This morning was a breath,

And the burdens were weightless.

My hair bounces as I walk,

And my voice is clear when I talk.

I smiled when the camera was pointed at me.

It feels so good to just be seen.

The caress of you,

Reminds me of colorful views,

That  used to be used to.

Today I am me -

And this me is brand new.

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Pages and pages of pink and pink
roses on dresses and slender chic drink,
All pictures pretty some might think
but none reflecting strength, and that's the thing:

Women's Day isn't all flowers and hearts
it's message shouldn't be limited before it starts,
we are more than our constituent parts
so today try to tear stereotypes apart -

Support our differences, our quirks,
you don't have...

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All I think of when I see these boots

is a hand full of dimes

squeaking at me through the leather

and broken soles that seem to grind

my feet to the ground

All I see is a row of wooden picture frames

and I count them, subtract them, divide them

into the hours that mark my sanity. Because I

am aware of time and can add, subtract, multiply

and divide it I breathe thro...

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We all couldn't wait

To grow up, to get out

To fully understand

What the world was about

Only to find

On the other side

The beauty we saw

As a child, had died

The day turned to night

The blue turned to gray

The innocence of life

Had faded away.

So many dreams

Now seem cast down

Remember when difficult

Meant choosing marker or crayon?

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She'll take them back

The stones cut carefully and stacked against her

Her winds find ways through the cracks

She'll take them back 

All content property of Chandra Mossine

*This original poem was published by the Columbia Art League in their 2014 Interpretations collection

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A CAGE WENT IN SEARCH OF A BIRD

Kafka

What use is a cage

that's become afraid

of its own trappings -

its mirror, its bell its swing?

What use is an opening 

that doesn't stay open?

What use is a perch

that doesn't stay still?

No use thinking things

will change

should a bird fly in

and make itself at home.

What use is a co...

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Change 

What a night 

changed my whole perspective 

tiny square piece of paper

dissolves on my tongue 

hours of deep thought 

time filled with colors and laughter 

the world is big 

mean 

unforgiving 

I’m just a kid 

someday I’ll have to wear a suit like my pop 

pay the tax man 

vote 

stand the picket line 

I just wanna get laid 

drink beer 

...

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Three more rain drops beat

Staccato, full stops, to leave

A promise on the wind:

The storm will soon begin again.

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Look into

my eyes.

The sparkle

you see

in them

is my

love for you.

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