"goan" poems - Hello Poetry

I am not that whomever. Cat, spilt from the night Onto porches, clever Thought out of sight. Nor am I that nose Bridging the eye's gap Fore the knower knows Nothing whence I’s lapse

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Dec 8, 2013

Dec 8, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC

daniel-august-1

Goan

I am not that whomever. Cat, spilt from the night Onto porches, clever Thought out of sight. Nor am I that nose Bridging the eye's gap Fore the knower knows Nothing whence I’s lapse

8

I shouted shazam and open sesame but the sea remained calm and did not part waves for me so I staged a rebellion with a bucket and ***** dug out a channel, the sea then obeyed and with a thunderous roar the white horses skipped across sand dunes which dipped into whitened salt meadows where nothing of any significance grows. Then the sea changes faster than the human eye can see and comes back in a foam dress and as if in 3D it seems to swallow me and spit me out to swallow me and yet my mouth still went dry. I ran before the running of the waters that were coming and their target could be, Moses and he composes epistles in the rooms of his saviour and sends notes in a basket to float down the river and end in a channel which I dug out from memory. meanwhile somewhere happening Noah a Goan said, go on I'll build it and filled it with freaks from the circus in town and while down on the Downs looking for pro forma brides dressed in long flowing Gowns made from gossamer wings a troubadour sings to a wandering albatross. In the end. it comes back to devotions, the mass of the oceans, the audience applause and we are just ****** that give out a meaning for free. I will not break my heart if the sea does not part for me I shall just write some poetry until the waters recede.

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Jul 17, 2015

Jul 17, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Captured

I shouted shazam and open sesame but the sea remained calm and did not part waves for me so I staged a rebellion with a bucket and ***** dug out a channel, the sea then obeyed and with a thunderous roar the white horses skipped across sand dunes which dipped into whitened salt meadows where nothing of any significance grows. Then the sea changes faster than the human eye can see and comes back in a foam dress and as if in 3D it seems to swallow me and spit me out to swallow me and yet my mouth still went dry. I ran before the running of the waters that were coming and their target could be, Moses and he composes epistles in the rooms of his saviour and sends notes in a basket to float down the river and end in a channel which I dug out from memory. meanwhile somewhere happening Noah a Goan said, go on I'll build it and filled it with freaks from the circus in town and while down on the Downs looking for pro forma brides dressed in long flowing Gowns made from gossamer wings a troubadour sings to a wandering albatross. In the end. it comes back to devotions, the mass of the oceans, the audience applause and we are just ****** that give out a meaning for free. I will not break my heart if the sea does not part for me I shall just write some poetry until the waters recede.

10

A mission in law let a Quaker inside this forrest trough's gold where bold exhale made milk with insight while our community shone but austerity captured the bones that this lust was on the beat with fame and dilatorily wept till obverse set the tone even a sortie in the rain that kept this stony pillage with her tide close to home: still brimming in the wind and Goan was spattered and stave our fold though sudden a burst of incredulous sin made her beckon in the wings.

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Sep 10, 2017

Sep 10, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC

poetman

My Punch On The Strings

A mission in law let a Quaker inside this forrest trough's gold where bold exhale made milk with insight while our community shone but austerity captured the bones that this lust was on the beat with fame and dilatorily wept till obverse set the tone even a sortie in the rain that kept this stony pillage with her tide close to home: still brimming in the wind and Goan was spattered and stave our fold though sudden a burst of incredulous sin made her beckon in the wings.

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