Ken Moore

Ken Moore Poems

A memoir Cast on distracted ears
wrought till rough to fade and wither
The downward glance, too patience lost
The Fable bleeds To the feeble pose
...

Generations of Youth wringing loathsome labor
Corrupted by increments
The cold ticking breath of Conformities clock
A hardened Anguish grows benumbed
...

obscure weathered age
Times malice unrelenting
Leaves fall vows break
A flake of oddments refuge
...

The breath
The tone
The feel
It's how you see
...

delivered to ramble
quiet hold hidden bare
borrowed spent with crimson gasp
blush to glow shape to dust
...

In the Gloaming of life's last era
A futile finger in times dike
both wicks ashen gray
quiet comfort leers on passers by
...

Sunrise an Tail light memorized
Silent drones wander caffeine and concrete
Materialistic highways Waxing the urban wilderness
A Jones class ladder builds another rung
...

In A fleeting moment the age of a breath
From Still air On the Morning after
The aura of A lyric with wings
Evolves A gift to embrace
...

Night fall predators harvest sunlight
from blind suburban hermits
A visual language conceived
Faintly heard
...

Heavy tapestries veiling shredded statistic
Billons of high definition uber hyped conscripts
Boisterous concern trolls
With a mortgaged one per center doctrine
...

arch douche kings manufacturing peasant stepping stones to opulence
metastasized wealth incumbency perpetuities
postured patriotism affixed alltheist faith
affluent shrouds for moral leper deniability
...

Contracted repeated rhetoric
defamations disguise
A funeral for reason
polluted lucidity
...

Heavy handed wind protest the quiet arrangement of my yard
Redecorate as you please disturbing as you are
Leer The aftermath of a childhood prank
Barking branches Shake my sleep
...

A warm Glare cuts absence
Prejudice the tides course
Servitudes commotion
Schedules Argument subsides
...

I AM NOT
Easily distracted by boisterous voices
Seeking pedestrian rhetoric fables
A mercenary mind
...

The Best Poem Of Ken Moore

The Noise A Quiet Day Makes

A memoir Cast on distracted ears
wrought till rough to fade and wither
The downward glance, too patience lost
The Fable bleeds To the feeble pose
Grasp for an affection set adrift
The dry age, of A broken promise regret
Reverence, Tilled too trivial acquaintance
Distance between A weed in spring
Fades an obscure life
A book once read left too dust

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