Help | About | Suggestions | Alms | Chat [0] | Users [0] | Log In | Join
 Search:
Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments   

~* ATHENA *~ is a recipient of the poemWanker award:
for appropriating other writers' work and otherwise plagiarising.
Read with caution!
the shape (Free verse) by w~* ATHENA *~w
What's this? A dish for fat lips. Who says? A nameless stranger. Is he a bird or a tree? Not everyone can tell. Water recedes to the crying of spiders. An old scow bumps over black rocks. A cracked pod calls. Mother me out of here. What more will the bones allow? Will the sea give the wind suck? A toad folds into a stone. These flowers are all fangs. Comfort me, fury. Wake me, witch, we'll do the dance of the rotten sticks, Shale loosens, marl reaches into the field. Small birds pass over water. Spirit, come near. This is only the edge of whiteness. I can't laugh at the procession of dogs. In the hour of ripeness the tree is barren. The she-bear mopes under the hill. Mother, mother, stir from your cave of sorrow, a low mouth laps water. Weeds, weeds, how I love you. The arbor is cooler. Farewell, farewell, fond worm. The warm comes without sound.

Back to poem details

xxx68.164.242.1510June 8, 2005 7:03 AM PDT
Anonymous24.211.139.1515February 3, 2004 4:26 PM PST
<~>67.84.171.105December 11, 2002 5:26 PM PST
poetandknowit67.40.59.1510December 10, 2002 2:37 AM PST
horus824.126.113.15410November 10, 2002 10:54 PM PST



Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001