Mark R. Elias


Mark R. Elias Poems

1. Willpower Prayer 8/26/2014
2. The Ballade Of Dorothy Parker 8/26/2014
3. Lines For A Card 8/26/2014
4. Hold Myself So 8/26/2014
5. Barbaric 9/11 Poem Even After Reading Adorno's Quote In Full 8/26/2014
6. Dostoyevskian Lament 8/26/2014
7. Twelve Ways Of Looking At A Tree 8/26/2014
8. Kitbag 8/26/2014
9. Pretty Little Flower 8/26/2014
10. The Soft Of My Body 8/26/2014
11. Reality Clings On To Me 8/26/2014
12. The Weight Of A Child In Your Arms 8/26/2014
13. I Will Know Of Grace 8/26/2014
14. Go To Work 8/26/2014
15. Cultivation 8/26/2014
16. October Moon 8/26/2014
17. Go Make Your Art 8/28/2014
18. Laid Down Flowers 8/28/2014
19. Tolstoyan Observations 9/21/2014
20. Dainty Little Poem 9/21/2014
21. Just Write It 9/21/2014
22. The Exquisite Thing 10/1/2014
23. God's Mystery (A Parody) 10/6/2014
24. True Majesty 10/6/2014
25. Ballade Of A Dutiful Soldier 10/6/2014
26. Swansea 10/6/2014
27. Effort At A Bill Hicks Poem 10/6/2014
28. Rambo 10/6/2014
29. Heroic Failures 10/6/2014
30. Dog Amongst Fairies 10/6/2014
31. On The Pleasure Of Forgetting Your Wedding Anniversary 10/6/2014
32. A Tree Sings 10/6/2014
33. The Plan 10/6/2014
34. Toad 10/6/2014
35. If 10/6/2014
36. Were It Not For My Dog 10/6/2014
37. October Song 10/6/2014
38. Artifice Practice 10/6/2014
39. For The Rabbit-Holers 10/6/2014
40. His New Phone 10/12/2014
Best Poem of Mark R. Elias

Lawn Tennis

He serves a perfect border, measured tight -
Returned, a centre circle with a tree.

He hits back with some pebbles, grey and white -
They're met with flawless, luscious shrubbery.

A rose bush now, fed on a secret mix -
Returned, a feature pool with lilies, rocks.

Some sunflowers next, held up by whittled sticks -
Again, returned, a hand-carved squirrel box.

A table, chairs, refurbished to distressed -
A sundial angel, iron to the core.

A stretch of trellis, ivy all a-dressed -
A hedgehog mansion with a little door.

A corner bed ...

Read the full of Lawn Tennis

At A Pauper's Grave

Borne of the earth, return you now to earth.
Return you, yes, to welcome in the seed,
To sing the mighty flower into birth,
And green the grass for all its holy worth.
Your song's as good as anyone's. Indeed,
While you've no angel carved, no monument,
No lurid lasting testament to greed,
No sacred words some mason's hands to bleed,
You've soil to share, having known the same descent

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