Abby Koning


Abby Koning Poems

1. The Soft-Spoken Witness 9/3/2007
2. A Subway Train Screams Through Semi-Circles 10/15/2007
3. Scuttle 8/12/2008
4. Blenderwhir 8/12/2008
5. Hydrocholeric 8/12/2008
6. Eve 8/12/2008
7. Squawkings In Nagasaki 8/12/2008
8. The Purpose Of A White Crayon 11/14/2008
9. Lawnmowershavings 11/14/2008
10. Whitewashed 11/14/2008
11. A Man Asked The Poet 11/14/2008
12. Tarot 12/13/2008
13. Benediction 10/10/2009
14. To Burn 10/10/2009
15. A Poem For You 6/13/2007
16. Naivety 9/2/2006
17. In Winter's Chill 9/5/2006
18. Jaded 9/6/2006
19. I Caught Your Scent Today 9/12/2006
20. Just Some Guy 9/17/2006
21. Before I Met You 9/21/2006
22. Broken Shadows Of Dreams 9/23/2006
23. Glassy Eyed 9/25/2006
24. Can You Hear Me? 10/1/2006
25. Undignified 10/5/2006
26. A 'sign' Is Not A Sure Thing 11/24/2006
27. These Rain-Soaked Streets I Travel Alone 11/27/2006
28. Sipping From Fragments Of Dreams 12/19/2006
29. Frozen Forget-Me-Nots 12/19/2006
30. Song Of Your Eyes 1/29/2007
31. Memoirs Of A Lonely Coffee Shop 3/15/2007
32. A Contemplation Upon Curls 6/13/2007
33. A Lie Slipping From Sticky Throats 7/10/2007
34. The Withering Trees Quiver Silently... 8/9/2007
35. Impermanent Shadows 7/10/2007
36. Road To Nowhere 4/5/2007
37. Words Are A Virus 11/28/2006
38. The Taste Of Cold Dregs 7/10/2007
Best Poem of Abby Koning

The Taste Of Cold Dregs

(a whisper reaches your ear:
‘nobody likes the taste of cold dregs…’
and you attach no meaning to it)

you linger reposed beneath the sinking light
the soft yellow glow that rightfully
belongs
to yesterday

and your face reflects
in the thin sheet of glass
behind which you remain
separate
from everybody you’ve met
and everybody
you’ve yet to meet

your fingertips resonate with your
identity
your mind resonates with
nothing
(it seems you‘ve misplaced your identity)

emptiness
and a pretentious cup of tea
is all ...

Read the full of The Taste Of Cold Dregs

Before I Met You

Before I met you, I was
Lost
In a maze of vertical shadows
Better know as
Tree trunks,
Stumbling blindly, hand
Outstretched
Wondering which side of the tree
The moss frequents.

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