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ABOUT ME
They come.
The words.
A title,
the snap of an ending,
triggering
a stream of lines
and spaces,
the pounding within,
that will not stop
until my mind is free
of the mess that is
my poetry.
They come.
The words.
A title,
the snap of an ending,
triggering
a stream of lines
and spaces,
the pounding within,
that will not stop
until my mind is free
of the mess that is
my poetry.
view them all
|
Melinda K Zarate
74 years old |
from USAMY TEXTS, Archive 135 Texts
Even So - 2026-02-17
Proof of Living - 2026-02-17
Love Is Not Hyperbole - 2026-02-13
Still Life (1) - 2026-02-13
Inevitably Evident (2) - 2026-02-13
In My Time - 2026-02-09
The Invitation - 2026-02-09
What Lies Within (4) - 2026-02-05
Wisps of Summer (2) - 2026-02-05
The Silent Ones (3) - 2026-02-03
Demand Response (4) - 2026-02-02
Leave the Light On - 2026-01-31
Everything’s Better with Butter and Garlic (2) - 2026-01-30
No Escape for Anyone (2) - 2026-01-29
The Work of Water (4) - 2026-01-29
On Responsibility (2) - 2026-01-28
No Reprieve - 2026-01-27
When Spring Comes (1) - 2026-01-25
The Cost of Comfort (2) - 2026-01-24
And Here I Am (1) - 2026-01-22
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