Wring Poems - Poems about Wring

...I’ve grown a mouth that’s so, sharp. Cruel. When anyone gets near, I bite with my quick words. Leaving nothing but a scar. It’s all I can give you. And when you come, And steal a kiss, My ......

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... Blue on blue a sandwich of the sky and sea clutching on jealously to the distant horizon. They both join hands, laugh, and emit their features, creatures and apparitions. Streaming......

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... legions … of shadowed purpose they rattle the parapets of my flesh morning paints the stark reality that lays like shards of tea-stained saucers before me … an iniquitous army of intent po......

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...MY DORMANT PAST MEMORIES OF THE PAST MAY COME AND GO, BUT ONE NEEDS TO BE IN CONTINOUS FLOW. SMELL OF CRUMPLED DREAMS IS IN MY MIND, ANALOGY OF BOTH ALWAYS KEEP US BIND. DREAMS TURNED INTO S......

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...A mother to you, a son to me, sucking the life out of my bosom and weep in disgust when it's saggy. Men love a tempting hole to fit in, to dissolve seeds of bliss and then chymic wring it barren o......

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...My father was born, Late on the eve of St. Patrick’s Day, Inspiring nurses to insist the babe’s name be Patrick, To which, my grandparents laughed and chose to obey. Decades later, When my pa......

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...a Danish imbroglio The Danish prime minister is appealing to Europe to stop Trump’s idea of taking Greenland and making it an American state What he wants not that he is overly interested is to ......

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... The soft clouds of cotton white Wipe away the tears of the earth Absorbing the pain poured and puddled below Swarms of pestilence incubated in muddy melancholic pools of despair From clean,......

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...The Corpus Christi Carol anonymous Middle English poem translation by Michael R. Burch He bore him up, he bore him down, He bore him into an orchard brown. Lully, lullay, lully, lullay! The f......

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...Young man, sit down, a poem to write. I can't.  I've been thinking day and night. Go forth, then, to old man Palmer's field. That spooky place, ideas will yield. Inspiration from my brain to wrin......

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... You seem a bit too Monday for someone who used to sway with much colour Wake, my dear, the day awaits, And with it comes white shirts the colour of mud and black jeans the colour of white shirts......

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...To call you a pansy insults the flower. It seems you cried for nearly an hour; your mother called to say she’d lost. So ‘space to process’ at a cost of fifty six thousand for the year to cancel ......

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...A tear of cloud, Blew away because of the wind. Care to explain their relationship? Did someone tell it to do? Each era taught us these to end Fights between us and to Greet each other so that,......

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...The elected Democracy. Is a democracy obsolete? we see it trampled on by Muslims demanding the Sharia law in our streets Democracy in the Middle East bombs  the living daylight out of the Palest......

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...Roads long squandered, Routes trained to memory. a crack in the long unyielding concrete unremarkable. Then, a wildflower A peculiar pink. Leather, nostalgia. Cinnamon, mellow. Stop dead ......

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