Blogspot - tealpoems.blogspot.com - Gerry Boyd's Poetry
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Dragonflies 25 Aug 2013 | 03:58 am
After the red goulash with pork and sauerkraut came floaters tiger striped with a show of wing sour in the grapefruit sky but with uplifting flits that demanded palms lifted too in supplication to a ...
What do children think when it rains? 9 Aug 2013 | 05:04 pm
It's only water that falls from that sky which a purple striped umbrella makes funny in a summer warmth when thin shirts call awake that slumbering sigh. Going for a smoke in the wet grass when light...
Nothing Was Explained 5 Aug 2013 | 01:49 am
Nothing was explained about the overture or anything about carpentry, else melodies would have been rabbited into harmonies and a proper house have risen rafter pure. Tophats garnered in a graying ch...
Old oak cannot easiiy flex 1 Aug 2013 | 04:32 am
Ain't gonna fake it as white seagulls fly are flown into black vultures that turn on high. Seen a caterpillar blue reaching also for sky back legs stiff poised, feet in a grasp unmet, poignant beads ...
The shoreline is only the clouds 21 Jul 2013 | 12:28 am
The shoreline is only the clouds of where you want to be in the pink and orange dawn where rocks mark dark shores. Later, when the inferno also rises burning red and pitiless, a watched pot most cert...
Signs aroused by curled pale fingers 15 Jul 2013 | 12:43 am
Signs aroused by curled pale fingers asking what's this ghost most rising over a hoary handless mist, a bare headed mute static of 'maybe' or 'yes' or 'no' or something muttered about onions fried to ...
Chimin' 5 Jul 2013 | 07:32 am
To plumb the rare earth metallic way in a sweat of silver beads profuse, in a dark smithy with the huffing down ceremony just pearl hidden, to feel the bell as slid to the hot left and cast round righ...
After the green god called 1 Jul 2013 | 04:32 am
What you call the screech of redwing I call harmony. Where yellow claws might rip flesh I feel a tender hawk. Far from the black tarn of human eyes I stand rooted in soft fog. In a white breeze blo...
Chartreuse Then Becomes a Lady 24 Jun 2013 | 01:57 am
Chartreuse then becomes a lady, on the domed throne she waits wondering what the calligraphy says about an itchy silent etching is- a pipe glows quiet red from that, our sticky sweet scoop of black ....
Burnt Korma 23 Jun 2013 | 12:46 am
If, languidly, the afternoon was lost in a celebration of the sun god and the simmer of spices and coconut left too long on the burner burnt, it could not be said that all was lost for some sweet jui...
