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My poetry blog William's poetry site Scott's personal web site Poetry writing site Non-profit organization serving Creative Writers Ted Kooser - Poet Laureate on-line magazine
To a Mouse by Robert Burns: An Analysis
I love this poem by Robert Burns and feel I can totally relate to it, having grown up on a farm, a... BRIGHT RED BLOOMS OF AFFLICTION
American poetess Sylvia Plath is perhaps best known for The Bell Jar, a perennial must-read for high schoo... Poetry analysis: If, by Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling, indeed a man best known for (what many consider) genius literary works. Remember... Works of literature are for me like buildings. Some are elegant edifices of dizzying height and rococo embellishment; others are simple A-f... This poetry analysis of the poem Grass by Carl Sandburg will focus mainly on the meaning of the poem, since that is what students so often ...
by Harry Youtt I'm one of the handful of people who knew of Ted Kooser before he wrote "The Poetry Home Repair Manual." Who is he? Well, he lives on farmland in Nebraska, but he carefully refrains from calling him...read more Write
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 La Fee
I long for a moon, I yearn for that kindred soul.
In the wake of night, whistling toward the twilight, does my lover forget my small plain face.
And I, the poet will cry. Tears may fall under a dank and desolate sky.
Oh woe and woe again it seems, a pit of nothing so she screams!
Heave me from this hole, leave me all alone and I’ll wander the land and roam.
So many won’t be burdened then.
No, no I shall travel living out Dylan lies and indulging in desolate Southern dives,
with the faces of men I longed to kiss forever etched into my skull.
And then? Again you'll find me on top of some ramshackle Moulin sipping away my fears covered in a green haze.
Lazy wanderings day’s waiting for the day where he remembers my name.
As time stands still, my mind becomes ill.
Grazing on Marlboro and Tanqueray, as the wallpaper peels like the curved edge of ancient books by writers so beloved, I will say.
Darlings I’m not okay.
‘Hate.’
Softly and gentle; my lover lay’s.
As the sun screams harsh into a new day
Enthralled by lust; as our bodies untangle
Purple welts and blood, my darling body mangled
With wakeful repose he avoids my glance.
As I arise; naked and watch my goose-bumps dance.
A quiet smile and whiff of decadence
I wonder when my brain will finally see sense.
I watch him tumble out my white painted door.
And I fall down laughing on my licentious floor.
Weeks have passed since I was skin to skin.
I do hate to see my dissolution win.
So I scratch and scream while the nights roll round.
Banging fist after fist on the cold sodden ground
To elevate this burning that no one can feel
But I; so sad but insanity has never felt more real
Only a mere mile away is the man who ends it all
Yet I, the gentle lunatic shan’t make that lustful call.
To grasp, to hate;
To sin a sin so great
To live with a lie
To try so hard not to die
The night has fallen quickly
And my despair is far too desperate to see.
Valiant Versifier
My father told me of a man whose words flowed like the Thames. He was born in the wrong era he said. He belonged with the libertines and thanes. A gentle man of sweet nature, he stumbled up upon, me and my father as we were walking along. "Oh sweet fair one" he cried, looking down into my eyes. ! I shall be gone soon enough and my lifeline is thin! "And alas my life was one field of cynicism and gin . "So show the world your words, pierce hearts with a verse." "Decadence, squalor and beauty are not but a simple curse, so I shall lie here in my most destitute hour, so lie beside me and look up at that concrete tower." "That you and your father call home, oh frightfully dire...The rest he said was but a slur, so I helped him along and bid him goodnight. And slept on the pavement where we all once where.
Ted Kooser Dodge Poetry Festival
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Catching rain on my tongue
by Jordan Green Old man winter sneezed Old Man Winter sneezed And snow was up to our knees. With a whirl and a whoosh, Old Man Winter sneezed. The snowmen smiled and Snowballs sailed After Old Man Winter sneezed. ...read more Write
by Tommy Guerin Do you hear it? It's faint like whisper's last confession. Calmer I am now, its descent is seizing the tension. Peek through the clouds that muddy your encephalon and gaze at nature's doves. Dress yo...read more 208 articles Write
Signs of Life by: John Ecko
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