78
(1 vote, average 5.00 out of 5)
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Written by Cynthia Smith
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Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:47 |
You, out of all beings
Can truly understand how
Boredom can slowly corrode the soul
Gnaw at God’s prime work of Art –
The body, and, towering over it,
Its prodigious engine - your mind.
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Last Updated on Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:50 |
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77
(1 vote, average 5.00 out of 5)
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Written by Cynthia Smith
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Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:46 |
You want to be at the heart of intensity
You spit it out, vomit it out, in some gesture that is
Never an intended contradiction
It’s never a contradiction however to vomit out this tedium
Over the rim of the toilet
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Last Updated on Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:50 |
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76
(2 votes, average 4.50 out of 5)
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Written by Cynthia Smith
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Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:43 |
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I’ve been into realms where It was dangerous to enjoy obsession. I traveled through the slippery lines Of a violent face The gaze, bitter like the one of an old dirty homeless man The face, oval, fragile, young, like the one of a helpless child And whatever I saw in it traveled through every Vein in my body. I incorporated the face. |
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Last Updated on Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:51 |
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74
(1 vote, average 5.00 out of 5)
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Written by Sally Omar
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Friday, 21 August 2009 15:40 |
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she was born in the black hills
in a small cabin
her mama placed her lovingly
in a wicker basket
she kicked her feet
screamed on the top of her lungs
and cooed for her mama
whose voice lulled her to sleep |
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Last Updated on Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:51 |
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73
(2 votes, average 4.00 out of 5)
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Written by Sally Omar
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Friday, 21 August 2009 15:38 |
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she stood in the field
eating wild berries
each one more delightful
a treat for a princess, she thought
she felt like she did as a child
free and energized
she took off her clothes |
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Last Updated on Thursday, 17 September 2009 11:52 |
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Poetry
