Don’t do it
For photo ops
Drops in the ocean
Of countries landlocked
In a box
Of emotionless
No self-promotion
Is known to this
Hopelessness
Open for business
But closed
To its promises
No profit-motive
Enriches this soil
A child with food
Shoes
And school books
Is spoiled
Yet toils still
Tilling
The barren waste
Rills
Cicatrizing the surface,
Eroding the hills
The foreboding,
Foreshadows,
Forecast
Upon vast
Splitting cracks
In an earth
Disappearing
Too fast
In the hazy horizon
Night tempest’s
Caprice
In precipitous
Rage
Ways of keeping
The peace
An itinerant,
Transient
Seeking
Enlightenment
Sees not the paving
Of slaves
In its bright intent
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Michael Brandon Marchese and writers in Poets and other communities.
Paint and Weave
Author's Notes: I rediscovered my 1980's poetry magnets box and in it were two poems I find compelling. I recall having challenged myself to create two poems using the same set of words. These two poem are what spilled out. Which one resonates more with you, version A or B? Leave it in Comments. I'd love to know your thoughts!
By Christy Munson2 days ago in Poets
Gossamer
"Murray! Wake up!" He loved that period between waking and dreaming. To him, it was like entering another dimension; more of a dreamscape than dreaming itself. There was an otherness to it that he wanted to grasp and yet deeply respected the fact that it could never be his totally. This is what gossamer was; flighty and light, a wisp of smokiness, an idea suggested but not fully revealed, a slit in cloth, a copse in the wood.
By Rachel Deeming6 days ago in Fiction
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