Biography of Carole Moran
Married. Retired. Living currently in Cambridge, Ontario, Canada. A U.S. citizen, have lived most of my life in Las Vegas, Nevada, where much of my family still lives. Wrote my thoughts as verse mostly in my 30's and 40's. Also oil paint, make costume rhinestone jewelry, and do photography and other various arts and crafts as the spirit moves me.
Carole Moran Poems
The Story Of William L. Manly
A place in the desert where date palm trees grow And peopled with folks from afar. The Furnace Creek story bears telling e'en now; As years pass, the mem’ries continue to flow.
The Harmony Borax Works, Death Vally, Ca...
A white expanse of hill and plain Where once a mighty lake had lain. Frosted with the milky ore Our forebears mined in days of yore.
Soft and pliant, Like the underbelly of a caught fish, Are my lovers arms to me.
A familiar sinking sensation comes When my mind understands a new hopelessness; Another quest gone awry, Another love lost,
I have this high-blown philosophy. I think all it’s good for is explaining away My failure to become An artist.
Out of the night Comes a runaway train Heading for us. We reel from impact
The Freeway Of Fright
Driving the freeway at night, In Las Vegas, the city of light, (From grey, cloudy skies overhead, At intervals lightning is shed):
A beautiful face With a gold mask. A jester's face, Yet not a jester, really.
The dread of bed is in my head and causes me to doodle.
Divided mind, in many pieces; Jigsaw puzzle soul. Mirror me; mirror broke; Shatter, crack, and role.
The canyon high on either side, Still, silent river, narrow, wide. High above and far away The sky is there, the sun, the day.
A lonely monument out there In the desert, standing bare; To guide the pilgrim on his way To record the passing of the day.
I want 'CREDIBILITY' Graved on a stone for me When I die. I want no name or
Give Me My Soul
Give me my soul. I want you to give me my soul. I don't want to take it; I shouldn't have to take it;
Soft and pliant,
Like the underbelly of a caught fish,
Are my lovers arms to me.
Strong and sinewous,
With the look of an anatomy book
are my lovers legs about me.
Weepy and weak,