Jack White

Jack White Poems

A roaring tour,
A discourse of sorts,
A forcefully coarse amour.
...

as November dies,
And closes it’s eyes.

The bareness
...

The Best Poem Of Jack White

The Wind's Monologue

A roaring tour,
A discourse of sorts,
A forcefully coarse amour.

My play, your dismay,
Your fully clothed body
With nose and ear exposed,
Are sights to grab hold,
On this cold, cold wintry day.

The sun’s no match for me,
Can’t you see?
My frigid blast,
Casts passed
Sun’s warming trend.

Listen to my roaring
Coursing sound.
You can’t escape,
I shan’t taper off,
That’s not my discourse.
I’m a roar that’s tossed your way,
My frigid blasts- tour de force.

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