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.

WHAT OF

the muses
their bodies writ
with mystery
their minds
a wander of sharp
twist gardens full
of winter birds

I smelled your oranges
gathered in the bowl
the warm wood floors

you were writing
then
like all the yesterdays
drifting in the drafts
about the window
frost

Editing stage: 

Comments

mmmm

author comment

away from the gin hosts
the butterfly black
thick as that

star gas hisses
beyond that veil
radio transmission
like waves racing
beachs catching

somethings are dear
the cost for fetching
limbs as thin as sparrow
claws upturned and
clutching the wind
cupped in bitter smoke

author comment

Let me try and say it this way.
I would like to own them,
hand-written on parchment with torn edges.
I would like to stick them on my walls
and keep some in my pocket
to give to strangers in the street.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

I'm just not as smart as Jess and wasn't able to pull much from this poem. No worries. You'll write more. wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

that somehow conveys both a sense of still life and the sussurating suspension of a writers words.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

all my long years of dealing with human/s
the inextricable weave
oh its something at times
twists and turns
the merry ride
for thrills and pleasure
but for me Neopoet
shall remain my treasure

...

author comment

Que "susserate"? wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

normally used as sussurating, slithery shimmering

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

freind of mine showed a co=worker a poem
awhile ago ( Over a year now )
and she liked it and said the above line
I get people writing me about my poems
here and It is more meaningful then
publishing One of the great sadness's
was losing all that material to the Old Neopoet
I didnt want to covet the work and never burned
them to disc maybe the lesson was that I
should start to appreciate these poems more
I printed up some and didnt think they were
any good but I went to the archive site
that has a portion saved from a few years back
and they were pretty interesting crafted peices

Its completely unlike painting or drawing
which is painstaking and time consuming
and once the commished peice is sold
it is gone out of my life Maybe I just transfered
that feeling to the poetry

well its taken me all these years to say that
Im not a bad poet at all

thank you weirdelf

author comment

A mirage of pictures flashing by as if to catch the reader and throw them to the ground, with a wake up call, read damn it read, or you will miss a scene.
Well sculptured and easy on the mind underlaid with jagged edges that would cut up dreams.
Thanks Yours Ian.T.

PS:- Have a wonderful New Year

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

yes and I actually think like this
i can sit down and write them in minutes
realizing that Im not constructing but
thinking in that poet thought process
early Neopoet days I would carefully
write taking my time and deleting words
but not now I guess its like anything
but its the whole way I look at the world
too I know those jagged edges
I've seen those dreams

thanks Ian

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