Is It Poetry

Gold Star - 17,166 Points (1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

Is It Poetry Poems

81. A Co-Medial 'Mask' Of Words 12/6/2009
82. A Composition 5/1/2011
83. A Confession Lost One Ant 10/28/2009
84. A Consciousness 1/3/2010
85. A Crazed Boy 2/12/2011
86. A Cricket And A Rock Bath 6/13/2009
87. A Cuddle 2/28/2010
88. A Day Comes 1/4/2010
89. A Day-Piece 7/16/2013
90. A Dead Body Climbed On Top Of Me 7/3/2013
91. A Death Blow Is A Life Blow To Some 2/9/2013
92. A Death-Bed 7/4/2013
93. A Debt 9/7/2010
94. A Dictators Vat Of Bleached Words 4/10/2009
95. A Different Path Again To Insanity 11/23/2013
96. A Different View 1/8/2014
97. A Dirty Old Man 7/4/2013
98. A Disguise 12/24/2009
99. A 'Disguise' 12/28/2009
100. A Doctor Being President? 8/20/2015
101. A Dog Once Normal 9/18/2009
102. A Dream Forbidden 5/21/2010
103. A Dream Of Death 7/5/2013
104. A Drop Of Blood 6/22/2013
105. A Face Beneeth A Cloud 12/23/2009
106. A Face On A Stage 5/27/2009
107. A Fair Pale Face 3/1/2010
108. A Fantasy. 5/17/2010
109. A Feeding Baby 1/28/2010
110. A Fetus Is Not A Person 1/26/2013
111. A Few Ladies 5/22/2009
112. A Fire - Haiku 5/2/2010
113. A Florida Lizard 3/29/2015
114. A Flower Never Picked 11/28/2010
115. A Fountain At The Tip 7/8/2010
116. A Friend 1/19/2013
117. A Friendship 12/8/2009
118. A Frozen Single Foot 3/13/2009
119. A Gentle Hand 6/25/2010
120. A 'Girl' And Now 11/28/2009
Best Poem of Is It Poetry

...................She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..

She is he,
and he is She.
The two,
now lost, loves heart.
And bright,
the yellow sun.

You once we're two,
as one,
and ran around the world.
Inside both heads.

He fell inside loves fire.
And she,
his red heart pumping burned

Both fires,
burned ice cold hot.
Within Her,
light did give U.S. form.

Over shadows love,
swept out black coals.

Your smile, twin lips.
He kissed, both miss.


His face, from that.
Bright coals, still hiss.

Now alone again,
he walks into.

Loves,
loving ...

Read the full of ...................She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..

C*taking Turns *

Short of wind your breath belies
the dragging of your heal in
dust we trust.

Sweat dried sand to face
scoured fresh blush the
wind has made
to know.

Wind lifts my arms to take
from you this gift is
precious so.

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