Poetry Blog by Alita Moore

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Cynthia Buell Thomas on Conscious purposes (2 days ago)

Itsjustmedownhere on There's nothing more to be said (12 days ago)

Michael Triandafils on Always Greener (Tue, 19 Nov 2019 01:50 am)

Joshua Van-Cook on A strange feeling (Mon, 11 Nov 2019 12:21 pm)

Martin Elder on A strange feeling (Mon, 11 Nov 2019 10:01 am)

Do.RoThy on A strange feeling (Mon, 11 Nov 2019 08:21 am)

adrian metcalf on Pass away (Sun, 29 Sep 2019 03:39 am)

keith jeffries on Pass away (Sat, 28 Sep 2019 08:37 am)

adrian metcalf on Life is cruel (Sun, 15 Sep 2019 09:34 pm)

adrian metcalf on Lonely by definition (Sun, 15 Sep 2019 09:33 pm)

Conscious purposes

Depths of depravity,
Sickened dogs in the corner,
They die in peace.

To feel shattered,
In the waterless world,
Nile's gone red.

Wine in the hand,
And bible in the other,
We stand inbetween juxtapositions.

Something deep within,
You can't run from darkness,
A necessary evil.

You do know the ends of fog,
You mustn't see past me,
I am opaque against the facetious moon.

With each door ...

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I feel of efforvescents,
In the dead of dawn,
And yet the lively worms work for more.

I mentioned before of seashell hollow,
Of the waves and crack against hard sand,
The geese do rain down a little more.

I wish I had the reins,
To set another foot forward,
But that's disengenous.

A way to escape I suppose,
Like the ants,
Burrow deeper into the colony.

A view from half-way down,
I dep...

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March to the beat of drums

5 minutes before sunday
The desiccant of the gallery,
And paint rubs the oil thinner.

What was it in an endless dream?
That was said to me,
Just days before I found out I could be free.

Feathers drift from the sky,
A fallen angel,
Windy sails.

I sit with rows and hold the eyes thin,
Against the blinding sun,
Creaks feed into the bay of pigs.

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Letter to sender

Little more than to be against the wall,
And senders mail you a letter,
In break of day.

Nuisances sever ties with the belongings,
Volition and freedom,
A mound to stand upon.

Did the feather fall silently,
When it came to the end of morning?
That's the afternoon

Flock in and out,
Trepedatious and holy,
Sending my thanks to the magnificience of the magistrate.

Little lady,
Babies in c...

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There's nothing more to be said

When you step out into a cold room,

The certainty of which did hold true,

Though sometimes uncertain is better.


I wish again that time had passed,

Slower and in reverse,

Little more than a baby's step.


Sway of the hips,

And eyes so wide,

The tides come rolling in.


The shadowed figures watch and stir,

Above and below,

As of late.


But the galla...

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godfree beside an anvil, 

shattered now be home, 

sat besides the palestinian, 

as though there were ends, 

gosh in fasting, 

as though there ever were one, 

in the second free and afternoon, 

be me, 

this after more

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A ghostly figure,

In crimson dawn,

Walk in the water fluorescence.


As tho there weren't a place to be,

Because there's not,

I step into the meaningless world.


Void of devotion,

Xenic in nature,

And food that rots to the bottom of the sea.



There stands the truth,

Convoluted and constructive in gasping irony.


Hands clenched,

A little...

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Be god

Gosh be darned now in the holiday


Didn't you feel that?

Like hell,

In afternoon


G be there,

Little more,

Or less


Who cares


The world did come this way


As tho

As if

Nah nevermind


It's alright,

i guess,

But tho it said in the manuscript.


Fuck you,

I know.

Tho you couldn't


Or did you ...

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In case I die tonight,
The shade's still blue,
And mother did not hold my hand in a field of pedals.

Stars in the sky gave me pleasure,
But little more than the reflection above the mountain,
I had tried to climb it.

Valor be forgotten,
When sitting on the side of the bench,
Hand in arms - rock rock my baby.

Did the wallet fall?
Or did it slip.
As though that ever mattered.

If not,

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You're not allowed

Excuse me,

Gashes in the side of women,

And pedantics to be withheld.


As though you understood,

Ashamed and conceited,

Sadness in a destiny worth having?


You sit in golden walls,

Sheltered in peace,

Little did my graces bless me so.


A person's hand reflects the image of their sky,

Paramount to the great sycophant of our day,

Either stand or let die.


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heart of eternal

Saturday’s dwindling light,

And the side of the shadow in morning,

Peckish by end of day.


I have walked in the sand with bloodied toes,

Waiting for the road to come,

And when I reach it I see reflection in the pavement.


There’s nothing to be seen and no step to make without more blood,

I have little more seed left to give to the hungry earth,

The tide rises in per...

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Sit still,

Dead in the water,

Gangrene smells of scented candle.


How the trepidation does halt rainy and foggy nights,

Yet the world can't wait to see,

Open the faucet in the middle of day!


Howling to the moon,

Joining the chorus,



God it feels good,

When in the middle of night,

Darkened figures rise from the shadows.


As if you felt ...

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