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feminine is beautiful

On Beauty Kahlil Gibran Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?...

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I’m calling BS on this one …

Lips That Touch Liquor Shall Never Touch Mine Alice Lee stood awaiting her lover one night, Her cheeks flushed and glowing, her eyes full of light. She had placed a sweet rose ‘mid her wild flowing...

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what poetry can do

            Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what...

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murika

Let America Be America Again Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to...

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more and less than roses

    Women Are Not Roses Women have no beginning only continual flows. Though rivers flow women are not rivers. Women are not roses they are not oceans or stars. i would like to tell her this but i...

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freudian haiku by me

freud the mind fucker molested sacred dreamscapes: his healings impotent   hApPy NaTiOnAl HaIkU dAy !!! Love, Angela

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“Here’s why. Poetry.”

Little Red-Cap At childhood’s end, the houses petered out into playing fields, the factory, allotments kept, like mistresses, by kneeling married men, the silent railway line, the hermit’s caravan,...

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latitude …

Come To The Edge by Christopher Logue Come to the edge. We might fall. Come to the edge. It’s too high! COME TO THE EDGE! And they came, and he pushed, And they flew. ============ about Mr. Logue

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who sez stones can’t bloom?

Corona Autumn nibbles its leaf from my hand. We are friends. We shell time from the nuts and teach them to walk. Time returns into its shell. In the mirror is Sunday. In dreams come sleeping– the mouth...

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fruitless boy-poems

To the Vagina Gwerful Mechain Every poet, drunken fool Thinks he’s just the king of cool, (Every one is such a boor, He makes me sick, I’m so demure), He always declaims fruitless praise Of all the...

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