Please vote for one of the following five entries.
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an orchid in forest
distant color
and you are there a moment
catteyela in shadow
a whisper in dew
cool wet lips
join the silence
an imperceptible sway
we embrace
the pieces whole again
an almost you
almost
suddenly gone
the memory of mirror
your face reflected
an orchid in forest
the words of a poem
Inspired by bare flame in orchid forest
****************************************************
2Rivers; one still flows
a soul that glows still
has a heading
and a name
smithpeter
like a box of treats
the sweetness
is in the savor
Poems by, smithpeter
the most awesome thing
A Dream Of Never Leaving
Walking pretty in ankle weeds
<with> Vertical Spite
<and> Wetting words
Prick of Jealousy
<in> Progression
Lunar whisp
<and a>
Lullaby
2Rivers
Gratitude
<And>
guilt
in death
It Sucks Life
Mowing Diaries
Near 1:00pm
Zen sucking
for karmadog
A Handful Of Visitors
<on a> Mourning Evening
Roll Playing
<and>
Sand Boxing
the night to remember
security alert
love is an asshole
Lover, Smover
<and> several blondes
touch
2Rivers
Heavy, Heavy Loss
Honest Sadness
Blue Feeling
Fluids Trickle
<now>
4 homeless poems
by smithpeter
@night
“ready?” whispered
****************************************************
to wake
fingers brushing through
pillow-tossled hair
drawing sheets down to see
the gentle rise and fall
of a lover's breathing
leaning across revealed chest
kissing slender throat
murmuring in ear
Inspired by to sleep
****************************************************
the taste of apples underground
in winter, they fashion paradise
in fancy wool. multitudes make vows,
horse-and-buggied in leather pews
through the Eden of Central Park.
wait for evening white, innocent ones.
meet it there—where they look to liars,
the blankets and their love, for warmth,
for something to believe.
the setting sun will show you
truths they deny, how oaths
are really taken in big cold cities.
to know the frozen lowdown
of this church
you must
descend,
to prophets propped on corners, numb
eyes upward with a distant grief.
to apostles snoring in doorways,
drooling penance, confessing
weakness in white bursts.
to women who men worship
beneath the cross of their thighs.
legs are spread,
hands are spread,
knees are bruised,
clouds of prayers
dissipate in subway steam.
wait for night—and follow stained
steps down to the echoes
of dead faithful turning
in their sleep.
descend,
until you hear the scattered rattles
of fallen angels, until you see souls
scurry into tunnels chasing
the sins of whispering snakes.
have they bled enough
to forget the suffering,
to long for it once more?
nothing captures religion better
than temptation—it’s like the garden.
there is a lure, a red offering,
reminders you have teeth.
and then a bite, a promise that
even hell is temperate and green.
Inspired by prayer
****************************************************
bunghole casks
My ex lover with new friend
my left behind in touch
with this point at the most
obvious rhymed with Mohammad
poking blue shadow pods of
forgiveness lives with hands
in such a peach
or cantaloupe bunghole
casks opened
the fruits of flesh
are more than drink
From my car her weight and spark
instead of soft cannot be hard
stapling the stomach of my mind
****************************************************
an orchid in forest
distant color
and you are there a moment
catteyela in shadow
a whisper in dew
cool wet lips
join the silence
an imperceptible sway
we embrace
the pieces whole again
an almost you
almost
suddenly gone
the memory of mirror
your face reflected
an orchid in forest
the words of a poem
Inspired by bare flame in orchid forest
****************************************************
2Rivers; one still flows
a soul that glows still
has a heading
and a name
smithpeter
like a box of treats
the sweetness
is in the savor
Poems by, smithpeter
the most awesome thing
A Dream Of Never Leaving
Walking pretty in ankle weeds
<with> Vertical Spite
<and> Wetting words
Prick of Jealousy
<in> Progression
Lunar whisp
<and a>
Lullaby
2Rivers
Gratitude
<And>
guilt
in death
It Sucks Life
Mowing Diaries
Near 1:00pm
Zen sucking
for karmadog
A Handful Of Visitors
<on a> Mourning Evening
Roll Playing
<and>
Sand Boxing
the night to remember
security alert
love is an asshole
Lover, Smover
<and> several blondes
touch
2Rivers
Heavy, Heavy Loss
Honest Sadness
Blue Feeling
Fluids Trickle
<now>
4 homeless poems
by smithpeter
@night
“ready?” whispered
****************************************************
to wake
fingers brushing through
pillow-tossled hair
drawing sheets down to see
the gentle rise and fall
of a lover's breathing
leaning across revealed chest
kissing slender throat
murmuring in ear
Inspired by to sleep
****************************************************
the taste of apples underground
in winter, they fashion paradise
in fancy wool. multitudes make vows,
horse-and-buggied in leather pews
through the Eden of Central Park.
wait for evening white, innocent ones.
meet it there—where they look to liars,
the blankets and their love, for warmth,
for something to believe.
the setting sun will show you
truths they deny, how oaths
are really taken in big cold cities.
to know the frozen lowdown
of this church
you must
descend,
to prophets propped on corners, numb
eyes upward with a distant grief.
to apostles snoring in doorways,
drooling penance, confessing
weakness in white bursts.
to women who men worship
beneath the cross of their thighs.
legs are spread,
hands are spread,
knees are bruised,
clouds of prayers
dissipate in subway steam.
wait for night—and follow stained
steps down to the echoes
of dead faithful turning
in their sleep.
descend,
until you hear the scattered rattles
of fallen angels, until you see souls
scurry into tunnels chasing
the sins of whispering snakes.
have they bled enough
to forget the suffering,
to long for it once more?
nothing captures religion better
than temptation—it’s like the garden.
there is a lure, a red offering,
reminders you have teeth.
and then a bite, a promise that
even hell is temperate and green.
Inspired by prayer
****************************************************
bunghole casks
My ex lover with new friend
my left behind in touch
with this point at the most
obvious rhymed with Mohammad
poking blue shadow pods of
forgiveness lives with hands
in such a peach
or cantaloupe bunghole
casks opened
the fruits of flesh
are more than drink
From my car her weight and spark
instead of soft cannot be hard
stapling the stomach of my mind
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