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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 236 Texts
Let It Wait (2) - 2026-04-02
The Graveyard (1) - 2026-04-01
Not A Joke (1) - 2026-04-01
palimpsest (3) - 2026-04-01
The Sentinel - 2026-03-31
The Sculpture (2) - 2026-03-31
Burnished (3) - 2026-03-30
Her Colors, My Joy (2) - 2026-03-30
Before She Slept (3) - 2026-03-30
Enough to Show Up (2) - 2026-03-28
The Pollening (2) - 2026-03-27
The Council’s Verdict (4) - 2026-03-26
Dear Ralph (2) - 2026-03-26
Until Then (1) - 2026-03-26
After (3) - 2026-03-25
If We Knew (5) - 2026-03-24
Our Hands (2) - 2026-03-24
Filed Away (2) - 2026-03-23
We Walk Between (1) - 2026-03-22
That Something Within - 2026-03-21
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