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1.5k · Sep 2020
Art of Poetry
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
It's a treasure trove
Words tossed up like confetti
Falling in our hearts
1.0k · Sep 2020
Love letters: Effable Fun
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
Boo,
        I don't write love letters
like you do

My words get blacklisted

'cause with love,
       things can get twisted, quickly

You see:
the sweet hips      
                   drips
            with kisses ...  can easily be
                            
the creep's lips
                      trips
             with hisses

Don't misconstrue, Boo
I see you
      like you see me
            and, I agree
our minds are connected
  
                   But
                             our
telepathy
           can certainly be
                                the lepathy

to confuse you
          and
        contuse you too

You don't see the pain I see
                I see the pane you don't see

It obscures my view
     I'm one of the pragmatic few
          I'm being true to you, Boo

These love letters must end
           In its place I'll just send

"Deeds" things we can both do
                          and claim ownership to

They can't be misunderstood at all
   The same ones used at a concert hall

If it's great ... then I'll just applaud
If it's bad ... then I'll just ...

                        Boo, I'm through
Lighten up my friends. It is all good with Poetry
504 · Nov 2019
Against the Odds
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
On the busy floor
of life and death
stood a man
Against the odds
this man stood
A slender man
A well groomed man
Who wore a coat
A coat of wool
A sheep's coat.
Against the odds
This man stood
among the wolves
motionless
He held an umbrella
in his hand.
This umbrella...
it stopped not rain
it stopped not sun
of the volatile weather
but in his hand
the man held
this umbrella
against the odds
in volatile weather
he stood
slender
well groomed
wearing his coat
his sheep's coat
among the wolves
motionless
on the busy floor
of life and death
against the odds
as he traded to the final bell
The Stockbroker of Life and Death
465 · Aug 2020
Stella in Moonlight
Anthony Pierre Aug 2020
When the sunlight fades
She creeps out in the darkness
Stellar in her ways
445 · Nov 2019
She's So...
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
People said she's so... great
I had to see for myself... bait

and I saw what they said
and I am fond of it

She said she's so...concupiscent
I had to see for myself... contentment

and I felt what she had said
and I am fond of it

I said she's so... enticing
I had seen for myself... volatile

and I experienced for myself what I said
and I am all alone
She's So...
437 · Dec 2019
Wine & White Truffles
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
I had too much wine
He ate all my white truffles
That crude selfish boar
Wine & White Truffles
430 · Nov 2019
Haiku's Dark Void
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Fear not the unknown
Rather, embrace its dark void
In it true self's found.
Haiku's Dark Void. A Journey Towards Self Actualization
387 · Nov 2019
The Mind Feigns
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
My mind
Feigns
It is a friend
It is a foe

My mind is a child
undeveloped
Knows so little; Learns a lot
Clearly, I understand my world

My mind is extrapolated
developed
Knows a lot; Learns so little
Hardly, I understand my world

It feigns
My mind, extrapolated
A friend
A foe
A curious thing the Mind
387 · May 2020
The Last Sonnet for Love
Anthony Pierre May 2020
Love borne in briers of a lonely heart
May bloom eternally on heaven's stage
So sweet the lustre that lovers impart
Like ink from a poet's pen on a page

When eternity comes bouquets decay
And letters of love fade into the night
Then mourning comes like a worn out cliche
Uncertainty grow to strangle you tight

Shudder not now my friend the end of love
When its curtains fall; take your final bow
free it of corpus chains to fly above
the empty trails of bards feet left on snow

When the last sonnet can't mend love's sorrow
Toss in Dante's burning heart your arrow
For lovers and haters alike
363 · Nov 2019
Hello ~ Poetry
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Hello... Poetry
It has been some time
since I've enjoyed you
as my company

There's a special joy
on a rain-filled night
to probe this site
with the cadence of ebony and ivory

Hello... my friend
would you mind a glass
red wine....Cabernet, Amarone
best yet, some Long Island tea

Such a pleasure filled mood
as my thoughts protrude
these splendid dictates
both old and new

So long, my esteemed friend
until we next meet
when I can repeat to you
Hello again...Hello Poetry
Suddenly it happened. A quiet night. Hello Poetry. Such a wonderful website. I'm just wondering if I am any good at this? Poetry.
357 · Nov 2019
Haiku's Noon: Mount Fuji
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Above Mount Fuji
Sizzling, the noon sun suspend
frigid smoke erupts
Haiku at noon at Mount Fuji
357 · Sep 2020
Contemplation
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
Through contemplation,
the mind leaps to its haven
above reason's gaol
A daily dose of contemplation frees you from the shackles of reason and logic. Deep reflection is great for your wellbeing.
350 · Dec 2019
Crazy Tap Dancers
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Tap tap tap like dancing feet
Crazy tap dancers on a streak
Tapping fast tapping slow
Tap dancing is all they know

Some tap dancers are on fleek
Amazing colours nice and sleek
Glittering dust on their heels
Neat and shiny like new wheels

One tap dancers was so vain
She was tap dancing on a plane
Some said this dancer was a fool
Then she tap danced into a pool

Tap a word or tap a page
Tap with joy or tap with rage
Make me laugh or make me cry
Tap tap tap till my battery die
347 · Nov 2019
Haiku's Novelty
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Novelty means new
A Poetic Novelty?
Explain this to me!
A Poetic Novelty? Can anyone explain what this mean?
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Its eighteen months since her delivery
Now she is penning odes ostensibly
Crayons in both hands: she is standing tall
What Dada says? "No writing on the wall."

With great care baby writes her graffiti
Not much untouched by her audacity
He tries to compromise with a new book
but baby says, "Daa Daa"; with a stern look

He has to admit the walls are hers now
Filled with scribbles and a chromatic cow
Its her version of Van Gogh's Starry Night
without the stars; a novice oversight

She's more surreal than Salvador Dali
The writing's on my wall: Pure Graffiti
Graffiti: Writing on My Wall
339 · Nov 2019
A Beating Heart
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
The solitary beat
of a beating heart

The solitary heart
of a heartless man

The solitary man
of a crowded world

The solitary world
of a ludicrous dream

The solitary dream
of hideous music

The solitary music
of incoherent beats

The solitary beat
of a beating heart
A Beating Heart resonates throughout the vast fields of the universe impacting and being impacted. Consider the impact of one solitary beat.
322 · Nov 2019
Sir V. S. Naipaul's Sword
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Every knight swords
A razor sharpened tip
To pare into the souls
Of their many subjects

Sir Very Special Naipaul
An august knight was he.
His felt-tipped glaive
Donned in ink stained valour

It cuts, this sword, above all
Deep into the mind
Bending, shaping its stream
Of understanding

Every knight who swords
A razor sharpened end
Must pen into our hearts
The most noble trend
A Free State is where I belong.
310 · Oct 2019
The Depths of Hope
Anthony Pierre Oct 2019
Born to a culture
common its faith
of shallow waters
schooled in this trait

Great motion of tides
ebbs most to modal tasks
like sand on beaches
the future's unmask

but without notice
some dove deep in fears
for comfort n solace
swam away with years

In the darkest of waters
a home made for few
where hope is deep
a new species grew.
310 · Nov 2019
A Night Time Plot
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Time has plot with night
to do away with day

An evil plot they thought of
so Night was here to stay

You may not grasp this story
until your day is through

When time and night are your friends
and day now dead is you
A Night Time Plot
305 · Nov 2019
The Butterfly
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
The butterfly is a frugal fellow
His dancing wings float ever aloft
He is always well mannered and mellow
Yet deemed queer because he's modest and soft

He passes his time in contemplation
Placates with colourful diplomacy
Works hard and avoids procrastination
He's artful and filled with tenacity

Not a slurp when, his ambrosia, he sips
His etiquette shows: it is well entrenched
For outings and ins he'll sure catch that tip
The rarest charm to behold but not clenched

Luck sees you such a butterfly at play
He's a frugal fellow and so he'll stay.
The Butterfly
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
The Sun slips to sleep
on Ishigaki's retreat
under pastel sky
A Haiku's Sunset: On Ishigaki Island in Okinawa, Japan
300 · Nov 2019
Haiku's Dawn
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
A galloping gale
sweeps away the lingering
fog of autumn's dawn
My first attempt at Haiku
286 · Nov 2019
Boca Chica's Bay
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
On a street near Don Juan
In Boca Chica's bay
Nightly music and drums unwind
To a proclavity of dismay

Little seashells aplenty
For every pious gaze
Unripen beauty so varied
Habitual buyers unfaze

Rising tension of devout sinners
Smoke and coffee breach the air
A salted heart in a mink's coat
"Toma dos ahora" ; take a pair

In Boca Chica's bay, seashells aplenty
Little seashells: its sells, it sells
May your Interpretation guide you.
274 · Jul 2020
Dogs
Anthony Pierre Jul 2020
A foolish dog understands nothing

A smart dog understands its master

A wise dog understands itself
257 · Sep 2020
The Black Prince
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
Slave of briers courts
regal, purple, velvet robe
Picture perfect rose
The Black Prince is a beautiful rose
249 · Nov 2019
Two Voodoo dolls
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
There are two voodoo dolls
In my room
But I'm unsure
How they got here

Many a night
Beckoned to leave
These crazy dolls
Just stare

I'm paralyzed with fear
And a broken leg
Trapped and unable to leave
my horrid doom

It keeps getting worse
Inscriptions on the wall
And lighted candles
Surround me

The silence; the screams
of these voodoo dolls
They echo
Even in my dreams

There are two voodoo dolls
Right here in my room
Great trepidation; great horror
All in front a mirror
246 · Nov 2019
The Dullest Star
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Come and see
in the night painted sky
a scattered brilliance
vivid, ever aglow

Take time again to look
at each irrelevant speck
alight tonight
just for you... see

Didn't you notice
the dullest star
no longer shines
as before?

But today, yes today
it radiates more than most

Come and gaze
at the night painted sky
its passing; it is passing
the star inside of me
228 · Nov 2019
Tetragrammaton
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Tetragrammaton
The apex of poetry
One word says it all
The Tetragrammaton is the pinnacle of poetry.
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Crafted by the hands of a Master
Molded to the likes of Gods
Beauty more astute than the Heavens
An angel more mighty than Hordes

Made from mountains of Fire
Descendant of kings of Old
A prince revered in Legend
Who conquers with words of Gold

Escape with me to heaven
Beguiles the angel of Dawn
Or I will descend to earth with fire
Deleting the day that you were born

Dance with me in Lust
Feel ecstasy by my hand
Make my days immortal
Exclaims the God like Man

Fly with me to paradise
Enticed the comely face
I'll give to you awe and satisfaction
till time emerge as space

Make my soil your Homage
Bond in sensual love
Feel ****** in manly touch
And saw to heights Above

Walk with me to eternity
Seal your soul as groom
Bring to me your bloodline
Or I'll make the earth your tomb

Tour my earthly Palace
Sail my seven Seas
Avail yourself as Princess
And sons you'll have like trees

They walked and dance in passion
Flew from earth to Heaven's estate
Sailed through love and emotion
Mere mortals as they mate.
217 · Sep 2020
... go go ego
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
Where Emperors go
caterpillars can't contend
but by changing state
Have a progressive state of mind
209 · Dec 2019
Time
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
This is not the first                  TIME

Nor is it the                      SECOND

while reading the      MINUTES

That this love of              OURS

has left me in a                 DAZE

Now I am so                            WEAK

I think this feeling will last a life-TIME
208 · Nov 2019
Macabre Swam at Bloody Bay
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
One thousand six hundred and sixty six
none: a salesman, a noble, or a cook
Macabre swam the sea of ****** Bay
In a fleet, the Dutch, French and Britsh he took

A crimson tide soaked the sand to a stain
Great reefs, he made, floating stench of maim
The more Macabre swam for lust of pain
More life, to the vast ocean floor, he claim

Now, three hundred and twenty three years on
Under a full moon in the depth of night
He, Macabre, still swims a ****** Bay
In search of an undaunted soul to fight.
A Personification of Macabre
205 · Nov 2019
Love's Language
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Harken not in hate
Whence thine love's words may repair
Hither, thine aching heart
Love's Language
202 · Nov 2019
The Finale of Mercury
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Why, oh Mercury
Where you sent
Quickly across the vastness
of forever?

In awe and supplication
Your audience awaits
Before the grandest stage
In the city of invisible stars

What, oh Mercury
Is this message
You have brought
For the abidance of men?

In awe and supplication
Your audience reverence
Before the grandiose sun
In the city of invisible stars
199 · Nov 2019
A Peculiar Pen's Poem
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
In the weirdest turn of events that day
As a cop toting guns and pepper spray
I gathered an urge to pen my first ode
In my lunch hour, before hitting the road

To sirens and light of my precinct's space
not a stanza wrote, yet my mind's apace
the pen's the problem; confidence recede
Pondered a visit to a friend, indeed

Thoughtful I'm moving, this old clue I'd act
on Brooklyn's pen thief; kleptomaniac
acquired from him, an ink dipping quill
of Huia birds, still boxed with its bill

Case solved; on the back of the bill it hints
"Dear Mayor, pen's for poems; lead's for thugs."
A Peculiar Pen's Poem...still beating the street
N.B. Huia (pronounced HOO EE UH) birds feathers cost $10,000 a single pluck
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
How a humble son of Scotland
Fought to enviable height
First a paratrooper captain
Then as a British knight

This witty chap from Glasgow
Loaned himself, a decorated past
From Distinguished Service Order
To NATO's advisory cast

As the press took him in notice
His wiki posts drew no pity
As with his tale of valour
He was defamed: "Sir Walter Mitty"
Historical account: A Tale of Valour
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
... my world is made whole
with these tiny little things
I'm big with small love
A little bit of love goes a very long way
183 · Dec 2019
A... A... Antidote
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Splashing on the rocks
One more wave of contentment
This is my last drink
178 · Dec 2019
Half Naked Haiku
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
She was half naked
I was caught between two minds
Our first rendezvous
176 · Sep 2020
Existential Bouquet
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
Life's a blooming rose
A special gift to possess
Death's a rose well pruned
The sweet bouquet of our existence
167 · Jun 2020
Nine Lives Night
Anthony Pierre Jun 2020
Mannequin men murals
Stationed on a crazy catwalk
with their mundane masks
and bloodlust eyes
Such was the intensity
In the silence of night
Tiny drums crescendo
with stubborn teflon skin
As stars tossed from hell
Crazy cats on a catwalk
Meow Meow Meow
Moving mannequin men
166 · Nov 2019
Robin's Tune
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
I bought a bird
A singing bird to sing
The bird was a robin
I named him Robin

Robin was not communist
Robin was not socialist
He was an American
An American robin

Robin was not gay
Robin was not straight
He was a singing bird
A singing robin

Robin was not a Muslim
Robin was not a Christian
He was just a regular robin
A bird that I called Robin

But, this little bird
never sang a single song

He was not a mute
He could sing
He was free to sing anything
He chose not to sing his tune

So for me
Robin's silence was deafening
Robin's Tune.
163 · Nov 2019
The Devil's Poetry
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
A gift wrapped prose
of undraped words
to confabulate or obfuscate
An incantation in every metre

It conjures a spell
on those that dwell
by their torpid state
in somnolent walls of each stanza

Never counts its lines
nor vocalize what rhymes, openly
'cause you won't ever tell
that you're in hell with the Devil's poetry.
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Can you hear this rhythm
The sound of my rain
Feel the beats of dancing motion
Symbols of my pain

Look at my flower
Shear beauty clothed in obscure grace
Budding pleasure, childish dream
Dances with splendor, yet unseen.

Kept my comfort in orchestra
Thumping heart race with thoughts
Earthly music, sounds of nature
Why must I feel distraught

Dancing flower plays the wind
Blooming wisdom, notes of gold
Chanting melodies, hymns of magic
A son's brilliance thus unfold

Keep on dancing Queen of Clef
Move in motion through the streets
Dance in pleasure, dance in pain
Till my rain steeps the heaths

Keep this movement queen of grace
Let your petals sway in sound
Dance my flower, dance my mother
My symphony is abound
155 · Sep 2020
Pound for Pound, Ezra
Anthony Pierre Sep 2020
Feather light words exhumed
heavy as Mussolini's clock
coo coo times, chimes
and a fascist bird sings;
sweet and succinct

Taken as is
might slight delight
The vitiation of words
in the phrases
Petals dead on a wet, rotted bough
Ezra Pound was a Poet and Fascist Collaborator
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
On islands of the tropics sweetly sets
over poignant scented bistros and tide
on a rich apricot, painted canvas
a gentle warmth for winter's hostile chide

As bare footed limps deep into the sand
To chirps, to giggles; crashing surf so glad
Briskly washing away all memory
of the wintered homage of Avon's bard

A pale mat lays hush, as red kites ascend
to prey in vast fields of his frigid shire
From a window's sill, his eyes thus pretend
A sonnet on the seaside's to retire

Seldom he escapes winter's icy grip
Shakespeare seaside sonnet: a mental trip
A sonnet for my friends in their winter estate
150 · Dec 2019
Where was your Love?
Anthony Pierre Dec 2019
Where was your love?
Before the sun sets
his virginity ablaze on
the spirit of the waters

Where was your love?
Amidst the moon's splendour
As she slowly and shyly gyrates
to the great movement of tides

Where was your love?
For life. Its awesome existence.
Flawlessly adrift at sea, on land, and air
To heir: a seed in its seed.  To infinity's end

Where was your love?
For death's dark, decadent demons.
A great necessity in the cycle of life.
The Phoenix of forever.

Where was your love?
Scripted in the fables of time.
Theatrically, poetically; a man-made muse.
Where was your love, but in my heart?
The Great Mystery. Where was you Love?
149 · Aug 2020
Ode for a Runaway Child
Anthony Pierre Aug 2020
From which old, cattle ****
my dearest child, you've found
the tongue that cried a silent entreat
on perilous miles, those perilous miles
peeled out from under your feet
your soul unmended and worn... gone
never coming home to reconcile

What indifference has time gifted?
that empty score you left...
...for the old hearted man
deafening him, with its silence.
He sobs for you, my child, he sobs
with battered old scars, so gray
...as he dreams of you
the child from whom he ran away
Don't be too eager to become an adult... enjoy your childhood
148 · Nov 2019
Fatherhood
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
By birth most knew
This name of stern
As mentors too
Some take this turn

Few tamed in domicile
Less in passive right
Age takes this notice
Not wisdom nor sight

Whose care can nurture
Great strength in a foal?
To yield such future
Mere presence can scold

With great hope so few
Enjoy this manly art
That horses will march
Long after they depart

I await this fortune
Time takes my reign
My worships in court
Years cannot regain

How will my horses march
On life's steeple chase
Without their father's hold
From this their tender age?
148 · Nov 2019
The Feast
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
One called alarmingly
and they all came
descending like vultures
encircling their prey

with razor sharp claws
sunk deep, purposely
into my open flesh
together, feasting one by one

my eyes quickly fainting
but theirs brazenly alert
grazing the fields of my soul
and my sleeping body

It tormented me to see
the pleasure they took preying
So I cried in agony
and prayed my eyes shut

my eyes open with tears
as I lay drowsy near death's bed
with a scent the feast left over
and soft petals beside my head
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