Poem Samplers

Alphabet:

Driving the
Rusty needle
Under the skin
Glad that the high will soon commence.
   
Figures of Speech:

A fuzzy slinky
hops through my garden
and steals my last
orange carrot.

Poem Engine:

How the earth is and in the sacred woods:
The crow acts as a plume of dark blue with fair hair;
those snarling monsters does he sink;
and among water-lilies! of black devils and black wolves!
The wind kisses her breasts oh flower-flesh.
- a nest of mad kisses, down the long black river.
The wolves howl back great conquering black eyes.
- sky is hell-red i long for the time.
How the earth is, and in the sacred woods
under the light of under your white skin
blood of green trees like black;
I no longer felt myself, and distances from that time,
devouring the green azures where low-hanging sun speckled
drowned men sank, i hung there
by Jessica & Arthur Rimbaud

Free Verse:

The wind might ease;

the sun might shine,

but the leaves have turned

a rusty gray.

Soon the wind will howl;

the sun will die.

Fall will begin

then end in a

snow-covered Hell.

My days will be over

and I will sleep on a

tortuous, bitter

long day.

The sun will have died

and all that’s left-

my old brittle bones

under white snowflakes.

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