A Poem of PoemsA Poem of PoemsA Poem of Poems
We learn of prose and poetry, And of their applications; While learning of these topics, I sometimes get palpitations.
For I love to read, And dream up phrases. To me, these arrangements Can set a heart in blazes.
I hope you don't mind me Responding in this way; That you give me an A In earnestness I pray.
I wrote a poem, Of balls and walls and courts. And alliterations and allusions Of all sizes, shapes, and sorts.
My form was erratic, My word choice generic. Yet I can't help but
AnarchyAnarchyAnarchy
A shot rings out And the crowd goes wild; The mob acting As a newborn child.
They run aimlessly, Looting and burning, Wild and chaotic, Twisting and turning.
And the perpetrator, The lone righteous ranger, Who has put all their Wrong beliefs in danger.
And the regime is changing, The people are seeing, And are all the less grateful For my granting their freeing.
FacesFacesFaces
The leaves fall From the boughs As my heart pounds Feeling like it could stop With the slightest touch
Yet the faces in the moon Tell me she needs me So I hold her until The last tear falls To the ground
Crime SceneCrime SceneCrime Scene
The sun is bleeding and nobody can seem to staunch the wound. But we don’t mind. We sit on the grass in the slowly emptying ballpark as the parents and the kids and our friends leave, talking while he slowly empties his life out into the sky. And when he's dead, and his murderer stands victorious, glowing with the light of his victim's gore, still we're there, our hands entwined while we lay on our backs, staring in marvels as the moon gets away with it. His accomplices, the stars, are thrown into sha
No day but today
Welcoming
--
~Raine
--
~Raine
--
~Raine
Previous Page12Next Page