Morgan Michaels


Morgan Michaels Poems

481. 198 1/27/2013
482. 199 1/27/2013
483. 200 1/27/2013
484. 201 1/27/2013
485. 202 1/27/2013
486. Morning*, 2/2/2013
487. Sonnet 45 2/3/2013
488. Peace 2/8/2013
489. Leaves 2/10/2013
490. A Painting By Titian (Exerpt) 2/20/2013
491. That Night In Montauban 2/24/2013
492. 3 Shirts 2/26/2013
493. Differences 3/1/2013
494. The New Shoes 3/19/2013
495. Next 3/29/2013
496. A Haiku 3/29/2013
497. A Way 3/29/2013
498. Roads 3/29/2013
499. Uptown 3/29/2013
500. Que Quiero 4/6/2013
501. 186 12/13/2012
502. Sonnet #43 12/17/2012
503. Breakfast Included 1/14/2013
504. Ben 1/23/2013
505. Ecole Post-Moderne 1/25/2013
506. Ars Poetica 5/1/2013
507. Evolution 5/2/2013
508. Sapphic 5/2/2013
509. A Walk With A Zombie I 5/3/2013
510. Yes, But... 5/12/2013
511. Unison 5/12/2013
512. Haiku For Quartet 5/12/2013
513. Poetic Art 5/12/2013
514. Coniglio 5/14/2013
515. A Walk With A Zombie Ii 5/14/2013
516. Twin Hoku 5/21/2013
517. Aquarium I 5/21/2013
518. Aquarium Ii 5/21/2013
519. A Hoku Threne 5/22/2013
520. Aquarium Iii 5/22/2013

Comments about Morgan Michaels

  • Diane Hine Diane Hine (6/12/2014 11:36:00 PM)

    Morgan Michaels' poems are as fine as Leonardo's sketches.

    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Megan Russell (12/20/2012 11:30:00 AM)

    Can you do me a favor and let me know what you think about my second poem 'Untitled.' I am new to writting poetry and Im curious to know what you think.

  • Filippo Stella Filippo Stella (11/4/2012 8:20:00 AM)

    I prefer to read 50 poems like these, than one only poem of 50 lines

    well, it will take at least 1 week to read all
    anyway, I did it with E.D., I can do it also with M.M.
    =)

Best Poem of Morgan Michaels

Under Heavan

Clouds under heaven fly
Winds over meadow hie
Through kept field and forest wild
Rambles my motherless child.

Leaves along the alley fly
Over the valley ravens cry
Higher than the mountain lies
The land of the heart's desire.


Hesse

Read the full of Under Heavan

Uprisings

Up slides the blind and out of remotest heaven
from a perlmutter sky
falls the pure, the Brownian, upward drifting snow
casually but surely, in high-blown whorls;
on the rail has settled a bluish inch.
'It's cold', croaks the bird, on yellow, thin legs,

so I rise. Snow fills last years rifts and sifts
on sticks and galls and nodes of last years'

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