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A Poem for PoetsThey told me eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. But rarely does a rose get a rose, or a lover receive love. Or a poet, a poem.A Poem for Poets
a dove, a dove?
by ~Broken-Poet
Some Sort of FrankensteinRain rain go away,Some Sort of Frankenstein
It sat upon all the mountain tops, it’s thunder shook through the valley bellow and stirred was the dead man’s glass eye, but with life?
come again another day.
by ~Broken-Poet
old man Riverold man River didn’t like the idea of dying, not one the tiniest bit. and he tried and tried with all he had, to find some escape, some freedom.old man River
But fear’s too strong when it comes to that. We all call death. It can make grown men cry, and mothers throw their kids the quicker route to hell
so this old man River decided he’d rather die on his own terms, so he ate his apple a day. Fresh, picked.
They say an old red apple fell on old man River’s head. Killed him dead, they said.
An old wives tale that no old wives tell.
by ~Broken-Poet
Learning to FlyGrab your kite and run boy, ‘cross the sandy beaches, and deepest meadows.Learning to Fly
Take each breath deep and recall how the clouds were shaped— crocodile tears, hearts, and grinning girls.
Close your eyes till (Trust me, you’ll know cause the tension) It meets that big blue sky
And remember why you were running. Turn around. Tie it round your wrist
And fly to the smiling sunset.
by ~Broken-Poet
Random Favourites
ColourlessIt is a colourless autumn day As if the rain coated sky- Consumed a once pastel splattered world Painted by children and fairy dust.Colourless
I was a writer once – And the ink beat through my veins. I accost my heart about its well; To find that blood never tided there.
My dreams speak to me- Like imagination Splattered over pale walls.
As I scribble oracular words, Illuminating an unfolding world- - I wonder if I have been there before Or am I purely out of mind.
Watching ink drain from the nib as if from- My brittle wounds
by =savvy
Black Dob, The Chimney LadBlack Dob, Black Dob, the Chimney lad His lady’s all in weeds a-clad “Hang a black ribbon ‘pon my door!” “Me Dob’s not to come ‘round no more!”Black Dob, The Chimney Lad
Dob, poor Dob adored Maggie Thane With sad dark eyes and an auburn mane She sold flowers in Blackpool’s streets The muddy stones blessed by her feet
He’d not a tuppence to his name Sweeping chimneys for those of fame “I’ll buy me love a ring one day!” He sang, sweeping his days away
He’d listen for her voice’s cry “I got pink
by ~GothiqueHobbit
Pop CultureWe're all around you; among you, above you by your wishes alone. [of course; we reflect who you are &nbsPop Culture
by ~VivaciousBodacious
glenn saidby ~alanthebox
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(bet you didn't see that one coming)
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