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 peaceindiscord
Icy as the chill of a winter breeze,
Fiery as the sting from the frozen seas.
Wild as the tears from a child’s cries,
Calm as the pierce from young staring eyes
Behind each soul, a story untold,
Unlock the secret, and a world unfolds.
Heart’s still beating, but life is still
This world anew, is yours to fill.
Paint the skies and add new lands,
Turn stars to diamonds, and diamonds to sand.
You are free to do with it as you please
But you are limited by your creativities.
For If you can think it, so it shall be,
But you’ll find it’s hard to let your mind free
But, no matter how simple my world may seem,
It’s mine to live, and mine to dream
It’s mine to live, and mine to dream.
Very meaningful :)
Le Sigh…so beautiful!