Val Morehouse

Rookie - 4 Points (California)

Val Morehouse Poems

1. Power 2/20/2006
2. Swept Away 11/25/2006
3. Mad Kitchen 12/12/2006
4. Paperwork 12/21/2006
5. The Presence 6/3/2007
6. Welk's Champagne Surprise 6/3/2007
7. Tall Meadows (Haiku) 10/13/2007
8. Indian Summer (Haiku) 10/13/2007
9. Sequoia (Haiku) 10/13/2007
10. Natural Bling (Haiku) 10/13/2007
11. Emptiness 10/19/2007
12. The Kite Flyer 11/3/2007
13. Thoughts At Summer's End 11/18/2007
14. Caution: Close Mind Before Striking 10/14/2008
15. Economics Lesson 10/14/2008
16. Sweet Clover 10/14/2008
17. Thanks Giving (Haiku) 12/24/2008
18. Silence (Haiku) 12/27/2008
19. Meeting At The Pond In Winter 12/28/2008
20. Many Knees 12/29/2008
21. Librarian 12/29/2008
22. Brushstrokes 12/29/2008
23. New Year 12/29/2008
24. Dawn 12/29/2008
25. Two Worlds 12/29/2008
26. Farmer's Moon 12/29/2008
27. Morning After Eden 1/2/2009
28. Community Garden 1/30/2009
29. Waking A Matriarch 2/15/2009
30. Doors 6/4/2007
31. Making Guacamole 6/17/2007
32. Suicide Note 9/13/2007
33. Searching For The First Kiss 12/26/2007
34. Exquisite 1/20/2008
35. Play Date 4/20/2008
36. Spring Snow 8/13/2008
37. Snowdrops (Prose Poem) 8/24/2008
38. Diablo 5/29/2009
39. Toward The Light 5/29/2009
40. Music Of The Night 5/30/2009
Best Poem of Val Morehouse

Liberator

Like a lover he enters my life,
carrying his dark purpose into the bedroom.
Each thing opens to him like a map.

Here, today's headlines screaming of home invasion
lie blanketed on that chair
where yesterday's clothing is crucified.

There, empty shoes gathering blackness.
Keeping silent on the nightstand, that traitor the
alarm clock winks its digital eye.

He fans out the credit cards like
flirtatious birds eager to fly on plastic wings.
Closeted, the jackets and dresses line up,

Emaciated prisoners praying for liberation.
He pats them ...

Read the full of Liberator

Paperwork

New city. No job. No apartment.
Behold the unemployed,
plastic slicker dripping like a lab specimen
ready for formaldehyde;
or a turkey in cold storage.
All bad judgment and worse luck,
will my number ever turn up?

Moving in lines toward desks

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