Tag: thirteen blackbirds poetry review
member name: Atticus *.
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May 21, 2009 01:50 PM EDT --
My muse murmurs a word in the dark,
a bug in my ear, caught crawling
through pages, or snatched
from the airwaves, . . .
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August 24, 2009 10:57 PM EDT --
Never informed by the sobriety of angels, You have been this way since before
Jesus wept.
I dare not call you capricious, in describing your . . .
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August 23, 2009 01:47 PM EDT --
Rolling down mountains, doubt fogs all my assumptions. I am inconstant.
The cool of this morning air, tempers the ascent of stone .
Full disclosure: this . . .
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March 19, 2009 11:55 PM EDT --
On the highway home tonight
tears for your mother came in a slow rain
under trust for my love of your company
and the joy of the day.
The sound of their falling . . .
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March 24, 2009 10:27 PM EDT --
I am not afraid of flowers,
not afraid of a sparrow's song,
not afraid of wind on long grass.
Not afraid;
though I know there is a price to pay, . . .
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June 12, 2009 10:34 AM EDT --
Once I was counseled by a wolf.
He spoke from the center of madness,
ravenous . . .
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April 20, 2009 04:54 PM EDT --
Birdbath.
Her gaze graces
this turbid bowl, as if...
roil'd feathers, her only concern.
. . .
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August 26, 2009 06:00 AM EDT --
In Constantinople they cried A sword in Constantine's side The inconstant moon had signaled their doom . . .
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May 12, 2009 09:26 PM EDT --
Beaten heart,
your heart is bleating,
afflicted, forlorn lover of a lamb.
Disconsolate crestfallen lamb,
this brutal beating, from your . . .
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July 06, 2009 07:48 PM EDT --
When you break-
down, there
is no
home to return to. The world is not your
oyster. No matter how strong you think, you become, you . . .
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July 21, 2009 02:10 PM EDT --
What is it about how
you fill up an ice tray
that reminds me of the
difference among snowflakes?
Or why . . .
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July 29, 2009 08:05 PM EDT --
Cloudburst under cover
of dark
leaves shaken limbs strewn.
Still, wild distant shore
birds
welcome sunrise. . . .
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September 11, 2009 01:35 AM EDT --
Satori is clothed in red thread and candle light. Then dawn combs her hair.
for James Ciriaco
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April 02, 2009 02:39 PM EDT --
It is no time for poetry.
I am late,
and out of sorts.
The iron won’t stop spitting.
I pop the button from my pants.
My shirt is stained.
Dogs returning . . .
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April 16, 2009 11:57 PM EDT --
Empty
night vision's light.
I keep telling myself
orange can be a shade of blue;
a lie.
. . .
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April 23, 2009 12:20 PM EDT --
Torture?
Acts on your fear.
Standing on principle,
or at least, its drowning shoulders
to . . .
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July 14, 2009 12:55 PM EDT --
Tell your friends you’re a painter;
they’ll want to see your work.
I know you may not have the heart.
You were lovers in your lust and rage. . . .
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October 10, 2009 02:01 AM EDT --
Your heart attack says,
in spite of what we thought,
time does not flow like a river.
It pulses, like blood
through our veins, . . .
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February 28, 2009 10:07 AM EST --
She stretches and yawns. It is just before dawn
I think she wants love and I stroke her small frame.
But she noses toward the door and stifles a bark. . . .
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March 17, 2009 06:05 PM EDT --
( A metamerism is a colormetric phenomenon where two colors made up of different spectral components appear the same to the human eye )
You could measure out the . . .
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