Lillian Susan Thomas


Lillian Susan Thomas Poems

41. Haiku Series Ii: Honey Making 4/25/2009
42. Sermon, Accompanied By Woodwinds 4/16/2009
43. Senryu 2 (Tramps) 4/10/2009
44. Signing The Adoption Papers 4/10/2009
45. Memorabilia Of Love 4/10/2009
46. To The Children I Have Worked With 5/24/2009
47. Looking Landward 5/17/2009
48. Haiku #14 5/17/2009
49. Haiku Series Iv: Cardinal In Winter 5/18/2009
50. Haiku #8 5/13/2009
51. Senryu 1 (Bicycling In Pairs) 5/13/2009
52. Sun Moods 5/5/2009
53. Haiku #5 5/8/2009
54. Haiku #24 6/16/2009
55. Haiku #22 6/9/2009
56. Haiku #19 5/29/2009
57. Wrapping A Corpse 4/24/2009
58. Even In A Flour Mill Laboratory, Poetic Images Occur 5/4/2009
59. 'Fine As Cat...' 4/30/2009
60. Haiku #4 4/30/2009
61. Senryu Series Iv: Seaside Stowaway 4/30/2009
62. Senryu Series I: Downtown 4/10/2009
63. Senryu Series Iii: Sundown At Altas Lakes 4/10/2009
64. Senryu 3 4/10/2009
65. Haiku Series Iii: Alone With The Wild 5/8/2009
66. Five Images 5/12/2009
67. A Picasso Morning 5/8/2009
68. Haiku #12 5/14/2009
69. Haiku #13 5/14/2009
70. A Burden Shared 5/15/2009
71. Haiku #17 5/28/2009
72. 'Some Days The Poetry Races...' 6/6/2009
73. *tanka 9: Train Whistle 8/7/2009
74. Fragrant With Heaven 5/28/2012
75. A Pantheist's Prayer 5/19/2009
76. *taut As A Drum 7/20/2009
77. Detour At Dusk 6/10/2009
78. Haiku #18 5/29/2009
79. Seductive Poetry 5/19/2009
80. The Strap 5/17/2009
Best Poem of Lillian Susan Thomas

*beauty Of Imperfection

Hard shelled,
Smoothed by many currents, many tides,
Buffing it with all that sand
As waves cycle through,
A cool fleshy lump of life
Lifts a finger
To get the weather report
On the motion of the seas;
Lifts a hand to grab morsels
From the smorgasbord passing by.
And deep within the briny, sweet pulp
A tiny blemish enters,
Creating a dimple
In its silken, delicate skin.
And that seed of sand -
Like the pea under the princess's mattress -
The oyster worries,
Turning and turning it,
Bathing it in tears,
Coating it with slime, ...

Read the full of *beauty Of Imperfection

The Lost Language

When I gave myself to him,
It was the perfect rhyme of couplets.
He: the smack of consonants against teeth and lips;
And I was all the vowels in long sighs and high-pitched pleasure.
The words we formed now buzz in the silence,
Almost audible in this empty apartment, humming me to sleep.
A lost tongue never to be spoken again -
No matter how many tongues of how many lovers
Touch so lightly this skin again

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