Her, real
A #poem in two parts
—
i.
While walking down streets
paved with the light
of early spring sun,
I see a shaded sight:
A woman of stone
stands on a perch,
a pedestal built
into a French church,
peers twixt two columns
with two babes in tow,
seemingly fleeting
with her robes all a-flow…
Kinda of a bad poem. But every line is pretty much talking about the same thing in a different way, so that was accomplished. I may like it better later on.
The Allium Rancor of Culprit Tuesdays in Multiverse Time
https://subspacewagon.systems/the-allium-rancor-of-culprit-tuesdays-in-multiverse-time/
A blanket of grey
pulled back: beds baptized by rain —
Resurrection blooms
pedestrian roadways sinking in the earth
https://subspacewagon.systems/pedestrian-roadways-sinking-in-the-earth/
Sanguine royale
A #poem in two parts
i.
Poking through
wild rosebush’s thorns,
by winter’s remnants
still adorned,
gold velvet
of a magnolia’s buds
gives way to
royal purple in floods.
The rising spring sun
casts white shadows on the dark —
Nocturne equinox
@poetry The poem I posted this morning is different from every other poem on my website. There is no meaning behind this poem. The only purpose to is throw various images into the readers mind. Yes, there many be meaning behind some of those select images, but there is not a single coherent meaning.
Stellate Osprey Winds Between Hidden Requisition Tags
https://subspacewagon.systems/stellate-osprey-winds-between-hidden-requisition-tags/
Bright orange tulips
crackle in the early sun —
Warming springtime fire
(continuing music series)
Lucie Horsch Sits Too Silent Among the Maple Pears
https://subspacewagon.systems/lucie-horsch-sits-too-silent-among-the-maple-pears/
All music series: https://subspacewagon.systems/category/music/
Survivor’s Guilt and Afternoon Fruit
https://subspacewagon.systems/survivors-guilt-and-afternoon-fruit/
(reposting)
Common Robins and Feasant Dusting Mires
https://subspacewagon.systems/common-robins-and-feasant-dusting-mires/
Ornery Chokeberries in Mildew Husks and Wine
https://subspacewagon.systems/ornery-chokeberries-in-mildew-husks-and-wine/
Common Robins and Feasant Dusting Mires
https://subspacewagon.systems/common-robins-and-feasant-dusting-mires/
Ornery Chokeberries in Mildew Husks and Wine
https://subspacewagon.systems/ornery-chokeberries-in-mildew-husks-and-wine/
Crypt
A #poem
I sit and write my poems
in bubble-wrapped words
that like the Transformers
are not what you’ve heard.
So long as the devious
Decepticons rule,
then this is an Autobot’s
most useful tool.
I steer by the stars
with my submarine sail,
a lurking Jonah in my
mechanical whale:
My wordbubbles rise
to surface waves
beneath orange skies,
sailor’s warning today.
Twilight’s last gleaming
A #poem in three parts
—
i.
When a streak of sliver light must bend
after travels through the deeps of space,
unwillingly warped around a black hole:
Its photons lose their long space race,
are split into radiation rainbows,
rings of X and gamma rays.
This maelstrom of energy now must flow
and fall into the deeps of lightless day.
If I am vanished
https://subspacewagon.systems/if-i-am-vanished/
If I get vanished due to my disability can someone please save or backup my poetry. It is all I really care about, as long as I can remember. I have been writing poetry for over 30 years. I don’t care if I suffer or die. I just want my poetry to live on. Even if that means that only two people think it is any good. [...]
#Poetry #PoemADay #PoetryLover #Poem #TodaysPoem #WritingCommunity #PoetryCommunity #PoetryCafe #literature #Academia
Lines on a wall
A #poem
Shadows fall
on a red brick wall —
built by a tangerine despot
in a temper tantrum’s pall
Shadows draw
a steeply dropping red line —
the wall’s a Jumbotron
that says it’ll all be fine
Shadows cast
by low sun at high noon —
fall on the wall
and push it to a swoon
Shadows crash
against the despot’s false wall —
and orange Dumpty tumbles down
to his final fall
"Revolution" by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
"there they were, singing and showing up despite,
and this was the moment that made me believe
in the path—not just the grand marches toward freedom,
but also the thin trails marked with courage and creativity,
small moments I can follow like bread crumbs
till this country again feels like home."
