MARINA GIPPS

Rookie (Chicago, Illinois)

MARINA GIPPS Poems

1. A Day At The Pink Beach 11/12/2005
2. Planet Of Six 11/12/2005
3. As He Plans His Next Victim... 6/16/2007
4. The Necromancy Whim 11/13/2005
5. A Man Who Disappeared And Came Back Again 10/20/2006
6. Women In White 3/5/2006
7. Closed Door 2/20/2006
8. Death Poem 11/28/2007
9. Words 7/20/2007
10. Elegy In The Wind 3/13/2006
11. I'M In Alaska And My White Mercedes Is Missing 3/22/2007
12. Spider Bite 5/10/2007
13. Some Reasons For The Mysterious Disappearance 7/11/2007
14. Arrival 11/12/2005
15. Rape By A Peace-Loving Hippie 7/13/2007
16. Above The Great Sound 9/15/2007
17. This Death In The Morning Repertoire 1/12/2008
18. Ashtrays 11/14/2005
19. A Clean White Shirt 11/14/2005
20. Troll Hunger 7/18/2007
21. Frank P. Kosmach- 90th Birthday 3/24/2007
22. America 3/11/2008
23. The Going Away Party 9/15/2007
24. No Spyrograph Required 8/7/2007
25. A Witch 7/1/2007
26. Hard Of Hearing Closing Their Eyes 7/3/2007
27. There's Something Sexual About A Yawn. 11/12/2005
28. An Urban Memory 3/5/2006
29. In The Evenings... 3/3/2006
30. Argument 3/3/2006
31. Whore 3/5/2006
32. Ants 8/4/2007
33. Beauty Contest 7/18/2007
34. Hoarding 8/7/2007
35. What I Am Telling You 6/19/2007
36. Nothingness 7/17/2007
37. Lemur In The Mirror 7/20/2007
38. Wonderment 8/31/2008
39. Marina Gipps 9/1/2008
40. The Bad Dream That Came True 9/6/2008
Best Poem of MARINA GIPPS

A Day At The Pink Beach

An umbrella being dragged at the day's end.

A seagull churns its wings,
avoiding sunlight,
the hard flight of Icarus.

Pink swimsuits blown in the wind,
in search of due course.

Time is needy, a bronzed babe walks by, a regular
statue of Liberty, her flesh turning to
green palor as the water cools.

In this empty beach dream of deepening sky,
the wet Kremlin and White House

are eroded as our childless hopes.

An old woman collects
seashells-caverns of poverty
to be sold to our deaf ears.
The ocean roars of stolen property.

Read the full of A Day At The Pink Beach

Terrestrial Effect

A lantern on a window ledge, lonely,
before expiring itself to the notion of sleep
when supermarkets stay open long after-
for the malingering of confused shopppers.

What a price to pay for the slaughter
of cloven-hoofed animals, the corpus of gods.
In Milwaukee, a woman lies naked for another woman
about to make coffee in her dull percolator.

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