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100 words England games Hypocrite of the Month Inspired by Federico Garcia Lorca lost love love Poetry about something other than love poetry of Michael Phillips politics republicans sensuality short story storylette sylvia ted the end of love The Meal Series the night poems The poetry of Michael Phillips The Sad SwanStuff
Category Archives: Poetry
The Meal Series of Poems – The Second Course
She reminds me of a salad, that perfect blend of things, a subtle mixing of ingredients saying much and yet…
The Meal series of Poems- The First Course
She reminds me of a curry… Not those weak imitations you get at people’s houses who have never been to India.
The Fallen – The Second Movement – a narrative poem in several parts.
Ashes fell from his fist unhurried, and formed a little mound upon the table we shared “Just a trick” I thought to myself, but was shaken.
The Fallen – The First Movement – a narrative poem in several parts.
“Let me tell you something.” We had been talking and we had been drinking for hours… Finally he wished to tell me…
Muy Caliente – The Fourth in the Heat series of Poems
Her dark eyes flashed with amusement, a challenge, and a warning both, “Niño… I burn, perhaps someday I might burn for you, or just burn you.”
Original Blood
I have blood on my hands, My improbableness has cost… Innocence and innocents were sacrificed upon my bloody alter.
Scorched – the third in the Heat Series of Poems.
We were a bonfire, My Love We scorched and burned each other and left so very little in our red-hot wakes. The very first moment we touched, blistering lips upon blistering lips. I knew that we would be consumed.
The Empty Chairs
I find myself sitting alone at a table, writing to those that never were. Victims of vicious, pointless hate. And I find myself weeping for them. How many songs went unwritten and how many jokes were left untold. How many … Continue reading
Cool Burn – 2nd poem in the Heat Series
You are the coolest heat I have ever known, :Love…. A pure and wanton flame encased in thickest ice…
It’s Getting Hot- The first in the Heat series of Poems
There is a warmth, when the temperature is almost, but not quite, tropical and the air begins to throb hot…
