PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

With what faith
Lies fear
What unforgiving sun
Hides her ghost's
But holds children
In war
You slept all summer
Rumors on the radio
Disappearance in mind
Little mountains wish
That took a man to wear
And at dawn it was November

Come find us
With silver wing
Birds or birth, where you will be
Both strange and blind but new
While the pilot, with red lips
With matching laughing eyes
Cries over the world,
With one last song
Painting the moon with his blood

In the snow
Fall secret hearts worn
By what's dead, still dances
To an open tomb
Still brings flowers and the smell of rain
To grow tired of being old
In the winter, a spirit buried by a graveyard dream

Clipped wings in broken English
Little worlds of sound
Poison ink in paper cups
Trade secrets
For reason