Monthly Archives: October 2016

Yo. Read some Poe.

Yo. Read some Poe. Does anyone really read Poetry anymore? We amp-up all info-rushed in blinking blurs of tapping texts of obscured austerities upon our digitized screens. What of the classics, the poets of all-time? Whose stage-showed verbiage taught the

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Spooky Spirits

Spooky spirits sweep several sooty stains of souls sent spiraling skyward since suddenly succumbing to silently suffocating subconscious séances. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2014 EWK (inspired by a Halloween night)

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Emotion Contained

Just suppose we were to ask a sculptor; “what the clay knows”?, or ask a musician; “what the notes know”?, or the painter; “what the brush knows”? The tools of the artist; yield to a part of the work, in

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Hot Rod

Caution: slippery when wet. Curves come on a wet night: ride.  Shifting: gear shaft: fast. Dare not follow a map: gasp. Lean in and feel the grip: slip. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2016 EWK ••• “It’s the shapes of the

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Calmed this Night

Daughter of the Dreamworld. Mother of the Earth, Sister of the moonlit sky. Clouded airs above us Ever changing silhouette. Peaceful times and comforts. Calmed this night at rest. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2016 EWK

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this wind

this wind, mills to paddle and spin  weather or not in vane. we feel the blows turned perpetually to its force of nature, turn. around again gears winding through years, this wind. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2016 EWK (inspired by a

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We are Electric Addicts by Nature

The power went out as the storm came in Stumbling in rooms so suddenly opaque Uninvited nighttime enters within Reaching blindly, attempting to locate A candle lit or flashlight would abate. Feeling this becalming intensified Shun the days of old

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Breathe Words

I breathe words. To read is to inhale. To write is to exhale. Gone are the days, of holding my breath. ~ an EWK Poe’em   ©2016 EWK

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Wanting This

Wanting of her wishful, teased-tough love. Whispered kiss taunted with, her pout lips. Hushed breathing tempos rise, hearts beating. • Finding bliss two as one, wanting this. Clips unclasped firmly held, in your grasp. Clothing strips desired wants, passion drips.

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New Shoes

A boy’s new shoes a pair, So few. What a blessing of care how good, So rare. He kept his prayers just as he should so long, He would. • Old shoes tired as he played along wartime stories, Ragtime

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