Last night’s PACKED #poetryparty house, panorama by Joshua Kristal.
thorny fingers flick the flesh
and i have thought
iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou
and you’re there but i cannot touch you
i cannot touch you
“This — For the Moon — Yes?” by Carl Sandburg.
from Slabs of the Sunburnt West, published in 1922.
“The Sound of the Trees” by Robert Frost.
Mountain Interval, 1916.
Lots of guest poets posting this month over at the poets.org Tumblr. I will be one of them in two weeks. Now you know this.
Tomorrow I am...
Poem submission by Benvenuto Garisto
Words cannot express,
So I will make a new alphabet!
A new language!
New stories!
New libraries!
I will make new dungeons
to house it’s secrets.
I’ll make new voices
that can’t be heard
and have no sound.
I’ll make it all!
I’ll make new legends,
new legacies,
new testaments,
and lore,
I’ll make everything and nothing,
I’m yearning for more!
More towers,
more screaming,
no exit,
no door,
From here to the sky
and the ocean floor!
Nothing is safe
and nothing has started,
so remain calm,
seated
and keep your hair parted,
Nothing is sacred,
nothing can rest,
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I vow to impress,
As I tell the feeling,
Words cannot express!
Interesting poem
I LIKE IT.=)
Sounds like something...would write, just better worded.