annh: Favorites

Oct 2020 annh

untitled #4

Oct 2020 annh

jackie

untitled #4

champagne bubbles
smoke hangs in the air
and you say you're just fine

Oct 2020 annh

74

Oct 2020 annh

Donielle

74

My words swirl like sparklers in the night,
Thoughts appearing in a blaze of fire
Only to trail away as the cold closes in.
And what once dazzled like glitter in the air
Is encapsulated in only the memory of something burnt.

Oct 2020 annh

Dusk

Oct 2020 annh

Whit Howland

Dusk

You paint our love with
somber but noisy tones

rubbing charcoal
and flakes of ash on the canvas

what is it

I'm scratching my head
a warning

a cautionary tale
because all I see is gray

windswept beauty and I want
more

so give it to me

Whit Howland © 2020

A word painting with a straight forward message.

#blackmountainpoet

Oct 2020 annh

Beneath

Oct 2020 annh

Jay M

Beneath

A feather
Slowly

F
a
        l
                l
i
n
g

To the ground
C r a c k i n g
the ice
Of a long frozen river

Meanwhile
Below the frigid surface
Lies a long dormant creature
Stirred from their slumber
Once more to rise

- Jay M
September 24th, 2020

Don't remember what the true meaning was, it's been sitting in my drafts. Tell me, what do you make of it?

#drifting #frozen #feather

Oct 2020 annh

Drift

Oct 2020 annh

Jay M

Drift

My mind is drifting off
Floating in the vastness
That is space and curiosity

Cold and tired
Longing for warmth
Wrap your branches around
My shivering torso
There is safety there
Calm and content
No longer to lament

- Jay M
October 7th, 2020

I keep leaving things in my drafts or notebooks. Based on a dream I had.

#drift #content

Oct 2020 annh

Untitled

Oct 2020 annh

Hank Love

Untitled

Wouldst thou feel loved?
Then let not thine heart
From yesterday be worn!
In the world, be one with love
And thine feelings aside not be torn.
The being which thou art,
And things thine eyes have seen,
Take gentle care of thine own heart
And thy wits about thou keen!

Oct 2020 annh

Since April

Oct 2020 annh

essie

Since April

To the clock and her piercing bell, I am a servant
Eating my supper on paper plates
Crumbs on my tongue like
Fog over the village
While the ticking creates it’s habitual calamity

this was an exercise from my creative writing class that I kinda liked