"unpoem" poems
This is a poem......
you don't have to read.
You're busy at home
watching Cable TV.
On Twitter or Facebook,
reading all the minuta
that comes down the feed.
My words may be little,
my words may be small.
But, each and every one
of them, I own them all.
Some will take time,
and others will pass by.
These words will be mine,
till the day that I die.....JMF 2/19/15
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
Let's talk poppies and candies,
Let's talk summer frocks and bees,
Let's talk blue skies ending
In crystal blue seas.
Sure let's talk the neighbors,
Sure let's talk cooking books,
Sure let's talk red lipstick
And guys' good looks!
We're gonna talk Elvis and Marilyn
And Trotsky and Tolstoy,
We're gonna talk Eastern countries
We're about to destroy.
And Italian movies and French perfumes,
Marijuana and milkshake,
Bobby socks and jukebox,
And vacations by the lake.
Let's talk, my dearest pal
All of the above,
But I'd say, first of all,
Let's not talk love.
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
I'm writing about nothing
something I own in spades
heartily huffing and puffing
just another, of my tirades
Nothing much
nothing more
nothing to acquiesce
or deny
Raging at the machine
something, I had to try
Folly ruling my neurons
as they vie to electrify
my departed creativity
leaving me, to die
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
Love is its own telepathic language/that we will never truly be able to translate/no matter how hard we try/how much we ramble on/in poetic verse/trying to explain something using sound waves/I wish I could open my mind up to you/so you could feel the telepathic love I write each day/in my heart/ like a passionate song/ in a drowned ship in a bottle/stained and covered by water/so all the ink blurs/ you can no longer read it/but you know whatever is hidden there is profound
Jan 11, 2025
Jan 11, 2025 at 10:45 AM UTC
Since I was a little girl I'd often lay or sit just so-
so still that my insides would tingle with what almost felt like movement...
it made me feel like all i really am is made up of a thousand butterflies skittering inside of a me-like statue.
For that moment,
when I can stop and center there- it was like I'd almost be able to lift the real "me" part out of myself.
It used to scare me...now I just know that my soul stirs and there has been moments that it was almost still and strong enough to fly away.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 12:03 PM UTC