Stacey's Page of Poetry
Sonnet 130
by William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing
like the sun;
Coral is far more red than
her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then
her breasts are dun;
If hair be wires, black wires
grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked,
red and white,
But no such roses see I in
her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there
more delight
Then in the breath that from
my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak,
yet well I know
That music hath a far more
pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess
go;
My mistress when she walks
treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think
my love as rare
As any she belied with false
compare.
Repose
by Melissa Ahart
My hands are reliquaries for
my best thoughts.
As you lay streched on crimson
sheets
My pilgrim fingers seek out
unseen knots
Beneath your back-skin so
hot
It melts the bone like ice
beneath
My hands, reliquaries for
my best thoughts.
Around our bed, books pile
like pots
Grimy in a kitchen sink.
Admit defeat:
Let pilgrim fingers seek
out unseen knots
While I ignore pages squared
like plots
Of cemetery earth. You kiss
and greet
My hands, reliquaries for
my best thoughts.
Your eyes glide open, les
petits boites
Where dark Parisian dancers
slide in summer heat.
My pilgrim fingers seek out
unseen knots,
Searching swift and supple
as a fox
Through tangled hair frozen
in a wooden wreath.
My hands are reliquaries
for my best thoughts
As pilgrim fingers seek out
unseen knots.
And the alarm goes off...
by Jimmy C
In fertile soils of superflous reality
The night soars, translucent as the mist
Watching, in vigil, and determined
The moon laughs, for a time at the dawn
The sun, with glory, brilliance and slendor unequaled
Comes with speed, chasing shadows of night
I'm tired, my eyes cry unwanting of light
Morning laughs, for, unlike
I, he has slept.
McDonald's
by Melissa Ahart
sitting on the curb with my Happy Meal
but I'm not a little girl anymore
and you're not my mother
green library books at my feet
like virgins just kissed
blushing flushing in a rush of trees
my daddy sends me pens in the mail
but I want to be like her- another
other
with her all-American
drive-thru DNA
Untitled
by Susan Landis
The water will always flow here
And sand will always blow
But if the sun sets behind the clouds
Will I ever have the chance to know.
Quote
by Susan Landis
Unless I'm dating someone my own age,
I'm either dating someone younger...
...or someone older.
Souls and Rain-Drops
by Sidney Lanier
Light rain-drops fall and wrinkle the sea,
Then vanish, and die utterly.
One would not know that rain-drops fell
If the round sea-wrinkles
did not tell.
So souls come down and wrinkle life
and vianish in the flesh-sea strife.
One might not know that souls had place
Were't not for the wrinkles
in life's face.
MORE TO COME!!!
But, until then... check out
a really cool bean...
