Short Poems – The Poetry Of J.P.

When All The World

From the doves that pepper the somber sky
to the slate that ashen’s the dappled day

We have engaged in a silence
so profound, it approaches stupidity;

They came, they saw,
and they conquered;
we stayed and witnessed,
and they abused us.

I will not be remembered,
not in the history classes
or in the breath
that fogs rose colored glasses
when widows weep at dawn.

Reading the newspaper:
It said, new material blacker

Liberty’s wields her sword
in most imperceptible ways,

To destroy is to be human,
we’d sell the sun to buy a candle;

The Reaper’s cloak swooshes across the road.
A feeling of doom sweeps over my bones,
I hear the sound of sharpening up in my throat,

The re-inspection
of words, that were his, or his,
is often entombed
in the backlash

Flower,
perfect pearl blue.