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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Somedays, Chopin and my cat are the only friends I've got. But if we are feeling extra amiable, we will invite Debussy, as well. Cat will sit on the edge of the sink, watching the water swirl slowly down the drain, her tail twitching in time with the music. My long locks tend to escape my ...
  • Poetry > Limerick
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    School should be abandoned on rainy days And made into heaven for a bibliophage Where one could sift through countless books And ignore the librarian's impatient looks The pages of a book have an unmistakable smell Which is even much sweeter than the peal of a bell The bookworm clutches t...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Carolers outside. Singing with lips wide about A jolly sleigh ride....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Thanksgiving Is a time when everyone From all walks of life Join together to share a welcoming meal. And everyone From everywhere Says “Thanks.” “Danke.” “Gracias.” “Merci.” And warm greetings fill the air, Just as a steamy cup of cocoa heats the hands, As “Happy Tha...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Pretty is not bleach blond hair Or eyes that simply beg for stares. Beautiful is not skinny hips Or Covergirl lips. Ravishing is not perfect, painted nails Or a fake tan that never fails. Elegance is learning from mistakes, Not pretending you’re a fake. Attractiveness is a genuine smile...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    As my hips slide onto the leather bench, my mind races and once again I am pulled under, As my thoughts strangle me like a diminished chord. And every time I reach out to you, You withdraw, just like frail fingertips skimming the keys. I have given up. No. You gave up on me. Unfortunately, my...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Where a sailor strolls, His feet dragging, dodging rocks and sinking sand. His arms crossed at his chest to unwelcome the biting sea air. A hopeless lad is he Who looks down at the foam Licking his tired feet, Ignoring the wisdom of the wise seagulls who summon him to look up. A tide pool of...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Into the late hours of the night When Satan injects himself Into my soul And I pulse with fire. My spirit an inferno Ignited by the roaring of voices. The tears escape my eyes, Blazing out of control down my face. Scorching my cheeks, Cremating my innocence. An unstoppable wildfire of rag...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Blue sky White clouds Green grass Gentle breeze. What more could a dandelion need, but a bee. The buzzing comes softly, a gift from above to show the little dandelion how much it is loved....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I took your mind when I read your secret book which was near and dear and private. I apologize, but guilt is no match for a curious mind and profitable information....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When I change and become dry and colorless, be there to brighten my soul with your vibrance. When I am flailing and abandoned, and my stem is no longer my security, be my strong branch. When I am lifeless and shrunken, let me feel your pulsing heart. And when the evil spirit ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My stomach lurches As we pull out of the old gravel drive. It tells me that this dead orchard is my home, my ancestors deceased with the mass of long forgotten trees. I am a fruitful tree, but I am helpless against the slowly tiring lumberjacks, cutting me down. My roots are being painfully pull...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Fourth hour. Algebra. Sigh of exasperation. I hate numbers. Numbers hate me. Excuse me, Teacher! Why must we learn this again? But I don't dare ask what I really feel. Another pile of homework. Another late night of confusion. Another sigh. Disjunctions, Conjunctions, We aren't ta...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A hidden cottage, a hidden secret Long forgotten, much conceited. For many a year, spiders and snakes called it home, Nestled, snuggled in the looming trees. Weathering taking its toll, Chipped paint, shattered windows, leaky roof. Decades of seasons it has survived. A secret pours out of it...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    His deep voice tells a story as each black and white page turns. Filled with tanks, guns, barracks, wistful men A life long forgotten, but there all the same. Every photo neatly framed, each with hid...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The Luna moth visits, clings to my window. The essence of its green span of wings, Its large orange eyes. A sign from above. That the shouting voices will stop. Tears will dry. Sleep will come. And so the shouting stopped, crying ceased. And sleep came. Ever so softly. Like wings in the night....

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