Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

f r e n c h d o o r s

and warm worn floors
seduction winds betray
the hollows of the heart
where sadness grows
the shadow knows

and lime green bottles
with their tinge twist warm
release the knots of
foreign scores
seething bold and brave
in headphones light
the escapes of long
dead dreams
that spring anew
moving swift
in flight

a summer haze
transfixed and static
like restless birds
their talk chaotic

A handles polish
like love abolished
we are velvet ghosts
darning rents and
where we dipped
our wings
and flew too low
showing the travel
and wear

Love the fancy way
you gaze and
this exotic sea
where swimmers

the mermaid song
for ships to
passion was
borne lost the way
the needles swing
captivating in its
madness brings
the touch of calamitous
a record to draw
on pages open

x's and o'x
and a wound
still open.....

Editing stage: 


this moved me
a once upon a time, scrimshawed on a bone of remebrance

your use of language and turn of phrase had me
completely captivated by their unfolding. words spoke, and
pictures fell from their mouths

thank you for posting a poem such as this. i had to comment

a turnkey phrase in my head...
where dreams become the unreality of realities undreamworlds
like a moth to a flame

succinct comment on a process of creative thought
Thank you very much for stopping here
I found it to be clumsy and wanted to jettison
most of it
and almost did..

there are line breaks I see with my eyes
but sometimes we build
a rawness into words
that bring life to strange new worlds
Brave New Worlds

i shall soldier onward
in the trenches and trudges
and give forth the fantastic
illusions and delusions I shall
be entranced with at the front
with all its bitter bleakness
and bleary beauty that
confronts and confounds..

Mr Wolf!

author comment

the great tooth of the beast...whalers

cauldrons and ships stew
and all the lamentations of time
in the cruel hoax of routine
for nothing ever is

I wear my bone cross..maltese
style...wound with copper to
keep it safe on its lanyard string

a talisman..a remembrance..
for voyages I cant remember
but of the dreams of lah..
as surely as daunting
as Oz.....

an adventure in the depths
of haunted lobbies
and the thirteenth room


author comment
(c) No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.