Lesley Taylor
Lesley Taylor Poems
Her nails soft and chewed
graphite nestled deeply and
ink blotched on fingertips
calloused and cut in the battle
...
Frosty fingers intertwine
elaborate lace, peering eyes
and what is this I feel inside?
what darkness is amiss?
...
In this broken mess
when all else has failed
and I'm drawn to my weakest point
it is then that I look up
...
She writes at midnight
when whole towns have laid low their tiny heads
and only the one small light she writes by mars the opaque ebony
and only the little scratch-scratch-scratches
...
I was born in a printing press
I'll die as a thread
through a pin
in the rain
...
A lofty demise
for such a delicate flower.
A little martyr
that made it past the frigid night
...
Her curtain dress
Aimless flutter forward
Feeling cold to cover
frosted glass figure
...
The sky is high
but still almost touchable
hanging just above tremulous new-green leaves
which perch themselves unsteadily on
...
It holds you between the roof of it's mouth
and its pillowy tongue
ad as you sleep it sucks from you
...
He said watch the birds
and he said smile
and stare up at the sky
and you'll feel small
...
I think that for the last 5,000 years
the whole world has been trying to survive on
one breath of air.
Billions of people
...
It's nighttime again.
The windows wide open
and it's letting in the frosty midnight air
and my room's like a vacuum
...
So Iwrap a curtain around my body-
it's like playin' dead
sittin up straight
(runnin' in circles)
...
There is some sort of bittersweet complexity in being real
when you feel the rain touch your cheek
walking coldly along a main street
with the wind freezing a rosy complexion on your face
...
standing on the edge looking down on herself
sleeping cold
darkness trembling around her
notes dark and cold
...
What truth is there in you, heart?
see how you deceive
how you tell such clever lies
how you make your host believe
...
Not worth this name I call myself by daily
Only worthy of the label I've been given
and though it's by your name
I pledge myself by
...
It's a little more lonely here
sitting on cold tile
and pressed against a dirty corner
on the floor
...
Lesley Taylor Biography
Lesley Taylor has been writing poetry for 6 years, and is continually modifying her style. She currently writes a lot of freeverse and unrhymed poetry. Her work is typically discussing views on morality and life from a Christian standpoint. Lesley lives in Massachusetts and enjoys reading Cummings, Dickinson, Whitman, Neruda, and Poe. She intends to pursue a career as an English teacher.)
The Best Poem Of Lesley Taylor
Writers Hands
Her nails soft and chewed
graphite nestled deeply and
ink blotched on fingertips
calloused and cut in the battle
of delivering words to paper.
scar dark and shining deeply where
pressed into slender fingers
and holding, as if a cup, a pen.
and the pen, knowledge,
and the knowledge, beauty,
and the beauty, pain.
the power of mankind woven snugly
and sharp lines of words chiseled
into open palms, concentrated in fingers,
and plied and formed by pencil,
scratching deeply their marks on
eggshell paper, crisp and sharp,
in a poets weathered hands
marked by invisible glory
dwelling in tired fingerprints
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4/25/2024 12:44:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
