Anosha Islam Poems
Be No Where 
You've just arrived
but you're almost gone;
no recollection
of where you're from.
You writhe inside
and you don't know why;
beyond comprehension
is from what you've... more
Poet: Michael A. Smith  rating: 
Ecstacy Of St Theresa
Pierced through the flesh
And right to the heart
The ecstacy of
St. Theresa
And as her body twists
Beneath the folds
Of her elegant
Flowing robe
And I rubbed my arm raw
In the shower last... more
Poet: Angel Esclave rating: Breathless
emotions
sway in the breeze
where far off seas
find me breathless
the mantric flow
lures me in
high tide, submerged
in salty anticipation
i listen to the whisper
of conch shells
she... more
Poet: Julie Adams rating: Hours Of Darkness
drawn to darkness
I roam the blackened streets
looking for a cigarette
straining my eyes
trying to focus in on
human forms
lurking in the shadows
armagedon has arrived
or so it seems
this is... more
Poet: Lynn Smith-Andino rating: Electric Blue Guitar
sitting here thinking
doing a little drinking
my favorite chair sinking
thinking about plinking
my electric blue guitar
almost bored
came a chord
one not ignored
now restored
my electric... more
Poet: Tony Whitaker rating: Art
It was meant to be beautiful. Only pictures that represent reality. It has to look real, you said.
I think you're wrong.
Sometimes sad, confusing, angry, hateful, fearful, envious, but always... more
Poet: Ymelda Ramirez rating: Seven Ring Catastrophic Turn
We've shadowed this truth among floorboards
As the neck allows passage
The last grains of sand
Subtle is my transition
Silent is my flight
The only traces floating down...
In narrow bands... more
Poet: Samuel Scion rating: Prophecies Cloud Your Voice
Silent timbres dope me to take mountains seriously,
I trespass mercilessly in terrains of vulnerability, restraint spilt
into translucent hydrangeas, ingesting their composite FX.
Escaped ovules... more
Poet: Shirin Swift rating: A Lullabye
it's time for bed not time to play
night is here it's the end of the day
so close your eyes go to sleep
then you can play while you dream
of riding a horse the color of cream
across a field of... more
Poet: Genevieve Sturrock rating: Missing Something
It doesn't matter what I do or say
It doesn't matter how many silly poems I write
It doesn't matter how many times I cry
I'm missing something
Something that's obviously important
I can grab... more
Poet: Angel Esclave rating:
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