I am 56 years old, new to poetry, I've had a tough twelve months and poetry has become my outlet. I recently wrote a children's book (in verse) and had it published, so I am a new author. I am experimenting and learning about poetry, I like reading lots of diverse poems and exist on several platforms. I have my own FB poetry page.
The falling poem was in bruising gamble of winter of troubled life, bound to a staircase: up and down up and down, on the rosette of grieving thighs. From sunset to sunset a moon rises in all its glory as
An isle so lonely, that no one seeks. Full of allure and comeliness, that no one sees. I search, I seek, my Shangri-La, in solitude purdah of wilderness, seeking for my ecstasy. It’s the detritus they see, winsomeness, is what
I’m seeking my immortal foe He must mosh hard and enjoy Edgar Allen Poe You should have a secret identity that nobody can know … Be a secret sexy super-villain, be my, John Doe! I’m now hiring, inquire within! Don’t
The days are rushing by Leaving no option to turn around the time by Everything is mashing and smashing out of order Leaving a relinquished agony in the heart That aches more when thought about the past…. I wanna run