Tag Archives: Poetry

391

Posted on December 22, 2025 by urbansonnets

The salty olive lingers on my tongue – should I refrain from taking another?My mind wanders to places so far flungfrom the routines that blanche the days and smother The crunch of snow, the scarf that was just hungon the … Continue reading →

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390

Posted on December 8, 2025 by urbansonnets

I’m tired but sharp today, so I’ll just coast,as halogen light blues suffuse this room’slinoleum tiles where dust and fungus bloomsmushroom like fresh bouquets of holy ghost: Put your eye to the paper towel rolland see yourself aboard a crystal … Continue reading →

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389

Posted on March 9, 2025 by urbansonnets

What is it? What do you all want from me right now?Should I unfurl myself into a crimson bloomin the springtime in this age of climactic doom,my ripened rosebud clashing with time’s pallid brow? Or maybe I should spend money … Continue reading →

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388

Posted on January 9, 2025 by urbansonnets

Alive at lunch, they shout to prove their worth:thrown fruit that rolls atop the formica(soccer orange), feet slide across the berthof time in minds still growing out like a Slinky, rainbow-colored, that stretches outin hands of children laughing geekilyaware of … Continue reading →

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387

Posted on January 4, 2025 by urbansonnets

Skinnamarink is our favorite jamon the power walk to daycare each dayover bottles, caca and blood – all gray,the road hard to read like let’s hope I am. But we run roughshod over slate sidewalkstrod on by ten thousands of … Continue reading →

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386

Posted on December 9, 2024 by urbansonnets

My failing eyes catch the Christmas sparklein a plastic snowflake held by my childwhich he uses to bang on the drums, wildfearless of the veil and the whip’s crackle. While he’s off to sleep, I battle with wordswhich live in … Continue reading →

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385

Posted on January 3, 2021 by urbansonnets

I’m puzzledby the weird confluence of deflatingfactors in my so-called being somethingBefuddled: Beloved like carpe diem flowerson alabaster from aural ageseach strand of hair heard like two blank pagesin the crystalline winds of Church hours: I was a docent of … Continue reading →

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382

Posted on March 2, 2018 by urbansonnets

Literary people don’t like sonnets I’m like, fuck that, this is motherfucking music, this shit is deeper than poems, but it’s poetry too, *************** They say its reminiscent of high school well, my *****, I went to a high school … Continue reading →

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381

Posted on February 14, 2018 by urbansonnets

I like sonnets because they’re musical A student gave me a bogus hall pass I function as a muse and/or a fool There is no rhyme or reason in a class Social or Spanish, space shrinks in this school Students … Continue reading →

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380

Posted on February 13, 2018 by urbansonnets

I really almost die inside my sleep where the whiteness of squall and sea prevail as a gust of gulls swooped down and wassail in the salty air through which my thoughts leap. I crash in waves escorted by seaweed, … Continue reading →

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