Language Poems | Examples of Language Poetry

He swallowed vanity whole, spit up rhododendrons, gasped at greasepaint fingerprints— his own— finally saw himself: Clown....

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Ariana shrugged facing Josh’s mocking clap the stringy harmonica rang acrobatically on the streetlights. He handed her a firebomb, eyes sharp as vinegar. They ran across the hot asphalt, watching the brass kite rise. Both caught in the whirlpool of the maze, they guided the trumpet, mandolin filling the air, sinking into the smokehouse. Her jacket flared,...

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A poem should explain itself -- define what it is – at the poem’s prepping, by the poet done all the required kneading whether healing or bleeding, a poem should be its own hunger or feeding -- should stand alone clear-day, or cloud seeding -- In conclusion – poems should require only a reader reading…....

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The absence of sound, yet a space brimming with potential. Not empty, but full, of unspoken thoughts, of unheard melodies. The hush after a storm, a breath held in anticipation, the stillness of deep snow. In its embrace, we might hear the whispers of our own inner voice. A canvas for contemplation, where ideas take shape, and anxieties might finally cease their clamor. It can be comforting, a sanctuary from...

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Enchanted by day Enchanted by night Poetry, is always Right!...

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Everything we experience in life shows in our poetry -- both shallow and deep – weeds and blossoms~ words come forth oscillating bitter/sweet harvest, from, hopefully, an honest sowing -- Honest words speak louder...quieter... even silence between far more emotive than a blaring trumpeter -- Poems affix in creative silence – before the birthing, spirit’s cradle of incubation, adjusting, conforming to individual...

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A friend said, rather smugly, you can't be "pretty ugly"; and where is the good, and what is the likelihood of one being "clearly misunderstood"? An expression he's also dismissing (or as kids say, "dissing"), is so silly: "found missing". And you can bet money no one is "seriously funny". Few people are ever cowed, or have to get loud, speaking to a "small crowd", and (sorry if...

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I hear the sound of clanging and banging from a distant source Like an orchestra of metal pots that have fallen on the kitchen floor which brings a ringing to my inner ear then a low vibration comes as I stand still This frequency happens frequently transmitting a language I've yet to unveil Creating a magnetic peace during its stay One...

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"As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on...

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The TagBoard Media Pro Chord Media and Championship Mags reports frustration and Aneeity in Both Sides of the Locker rooms Worlds Abroad Rasslin Media reports the Deal has been Made Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wrestling world: Members of the Sports Wrestling World, Entertainment World and People in General. It's been Signed Company Verses Companny "The Bout That Matter's" "Only if he show's" said the promotions and promotors on...

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Under the cadence of footsteps on worn cobblestones, At the café where steaming cups held time hostage, Eyes met and lingered, a glance stretched into an eternity. A young American, as if sculpted from sunshine itself, And she, like the Rhine’s melody upon misted mornings, Beauty unspoken, unmeasured—fate had smiled. It was here, in a moment of unspoken connection, That an ordinary...

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She woke up to a sunrise; Bright in her eyes as she rose She stares at the moon as it disappears. The red hat sitting on her dresser, As she picked out her daily dress. Brushed her hair, sprayed perfume- Still, something was missing. The girl followed the echoes of her mom’s voice; Alerting her of the time rush. As she waited for the...

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Yes! day and night, inside my roaring shop, pounding my heavy hammer ceaselessly against the hardened anvil Poetry, I ply tough steel into a pleasant shape. Working words cleansed of cheap and easy trope which would debase my art’s due quality, I craft a blade, or else a spade, to be the prying prod of clever penmanship. But sometimes, in the silence...

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Yet where there were curses , you will find scars, Where I found my secrets, you will see my quiet lies. What pain hides, it also still shows Its fact hoed through ruined trails it snares. In shadowed dark, a fire still gleams, An ember bright that even pain redeems. The knives that gut are mirrors,...

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‘Circling the wagons’ is an absurd cliché ‘Cos even stations-wagons are out-of-fashion today ...

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