All her lines are fine and shift in remarkable ways as she brushes hair, hip and décolleté, or strokes to draw an eye. A simpered lip shapes vocabularies and certain curves string a long line of one-eyed rube-in-ruts in their wake. she will amuse the dandy or dangle depending on her angle, But, what he … Continue reading All Her Lines (the Artist)
Tag: poetry
A Riddle for the Morning
O, they are an innocent few and frail as morning dew concerned with what not to do. Right-out-of-the-package new, they habitually eschew the good old raunchy screw far past the age of twenty-two. Can you tell me who? These are the sweet __________. Please post your response to the riddle in a comment.
I am of two birds whether the feeder's sure seed or hunger of horizons Writelee initially piloted this yesterday. It is Goodby and Retrospective 1. From May 30, 2018
On the End of the Daily Post
I am of two birds whether the feeder's sure seed or hunger of horizons Broken
A Promise is so Easy to Give Up
No rainbow over parched pastures. Flood’s promise—mud in a dwindle pool In response to Daily Prompts word of the day, with a broken heart
Endangered
What if a species was going extinct practically gone almost KA-BLOOEY and what if TV and the Times stopped midmeaning and maybe nobody anymore said three armed men or six armed men or nine armed men or anything about any amount of arms and what if TV and Time couldn’t figure the only possible something … Continue reading Endangered
The Depth of the Mirror
There is no other in this glaze— where in the eye is always I— and where a you is only haze or mere polish to clarify. Narcissism
In Summer Expectancy
This May rain :: dull sheen on stone, chill wind-shook-leaves— apple blossom buds. Responding to the day and the prompt: Premature
A Meadow Lark Whistles
Wind clacks in willows A Meadow Lark whistles I will sit a while. Still.
Looking for Blessings
Old man’s eyes scan blue beyond cottonwood grove where child saw orange bird.
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 