What of this feeling, hard-pressed at best, the likes of a leaf confined between pages, marking time long past, yet called upon to answer up, to confess future beyond this moment, a have or hand-hold, a come what may, this day and forward, based on something not yet seen, a voice crumbling in and unto its self, do I even believe in any such mulch, am I the one to ask?
Want to review or comment on this poem?
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Reviews of "For The Record"
Reviewed by Missy Cross (Reader)
Reviewed on April 11, 2006
This poem is a literary funhouse, a true brain teaser. Thanks for the mental trip!
great write, it can be viewed on so many different levels
bill
Reviewed by Linda Luna (Reader)
Reviewed on February 8, 2006
Anne,
Exquisite - true to your talent. The compost imagery speaks volumes to me as the experience of love to grow from - each new leaf adding to the mix. LL*
Hearts of Gold
Synopsis
by
Frank P. Whyte
Portland, Oregon is known as the City of Roses. Of course that’s an odd name for a city whose mere mention conjures images of driving winds and torrential ra
A homonymless man writes shows what it's like to look up the laid he skirts when you’re lying prone(d) to the sidewalk, beer / joint / needle dangling from your hand /lips / arm.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
bill
Exquisite - true to your talent. The compost imagery speaks volumes to me as the experience of love to grow from - each new leaf adding to the mix. LL*