jerome moore

jerome moore Poems

161. Wind 8/25/2013
162. Skid Row 1/22/2014
163. Moving In To 131 7/1/2014
164. Stinky Steve 7/11/2014
165. Season Affair 7/11/2014
166. Dreamscape 7/11/2014
167. Footloose And Ecocide Free 7/14/2014
168. End To Dichotomy 7/14/2014
169. Bop 7/14/2014
170. Twelve Steps To The Sun 7/16/2014
171. Youth Can See It 7/21/2014
172. Between The Bars 7/26/2014
173. Window Beneath My Bed 7/27/2014
174. A Piece Of Apple Browning And Skin Peeling Off 7/30/2014
175. Nose Dive 7/30/2014
176. Peacock 8/3/2014
177. Dreaming Of Castles 8/4/2014
178. Madness 8/5/2014
179. Thunder Bop 7/4/2014
180. The Devil Tattood My Left Hand 7/9/2014
181. Le Petite Mort 7/9/2014
182. Lord 7/9/2014
183. Blondell Blondies 7/9/2014
184. Skid Row! 1/22/2014
185. My Mind Is A Bull 1/24/2014
186. Square Peg,,In A Round Hole 1/17/2014
187. The Darkness 12/19/2012
188. Niku 11/14/2012
189. Like I Being Shot By A Diamond 10/24/2012
190. She Opened Her Legs... To Let The Light In 10/22/2012
191. Naked In The Color Splash 9/2/2012
192. Maine Woods 8/23/2012
193. Masculine Feminine 8/11/2013
194. Snare Drum 7/1/2014
195. Ceo (Creed Executive Officer) 6/26/2014
196. Mooch Winnipeg 7/9/2014
197. Life Among The Dying Earth 10/7/2013
198. On Writing A Novel Pt 2 8/27/2012
199. And This Is Richmond 1/30/2013
200. Piñata 7/11/2013

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Best Poem of jerome moore

Dear Courtney

I have decided to skip the cold derelict night and stay inside where I am still fairly warm.
Totally digging you tonight! our dates seem to end up running away from us and too soon,
I could chat with you all day long and still feel like I need to dig you more,
You make me happy and I feel we understand each other well and right now at this very moment in my life I feel at peace and everything feels right.
I don't miss you becuase I look foreword to the day I can visit you and feel like no time has passed but feel our relationship strong as ever and still growing like i have ...

Read the full of Dear Courtney

The Sea Deceives Me

The pages of the calendar fall to the ground,
crunch crunch crunch under our feet,
grinding themselves to dust.
Hours and numbers, days and months cover the earth with mosaic colors
as if a tempest had broken open a damn and they flood out into our fields, we rake them up, unspoken we burn them, we stuff them in threadbare and patchy clothing, we make scarecrows up to look like our former selves,
others we stuff in gutters and drains.
There are pages from a hundred years back in som

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