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Poems about Prose-poetry

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  • Panorama
    Vestiges of stone and greensand, torn apart by eyes of cobblestone. Impressions of a day through the memories of night: flickering light of joy emblazing the coy darkness that hides behind daylight. A magnificent silhouette f
    by Justin3 14 lines, on Feb 1 9:11 AM. In Prose-poetry
  • Double-Helix
    Death in my left hand, possibility in my right.A battle without mercy; a power unknown throughout the centuries.Like a pendulum I swing in
    by Justin3 19 lines, on Jan 4 2:06 PM. In Prose-poetry
  • Pain's Room
    No wind blew in the sleeping street, but every step was colder than the last. The night cast a solemn veil on the skyline's murky paths.Only the odd car passed by - a cemetery of movement - sound in the minus zero.
    by Justin3 41 lines, 2 comments, on Dec 20 6:13 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Temple Of Horizons
    by Justin3 56 lines, on Dec 8 6:22 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Cities, Countryside, Rivers
    Men and women rushing by the avenues with a familiarity that settles them in the breeze brushing the giant palms.
    - Frie
    by Justin3 10 lines, on Dec 8 5:47 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Run
    Grab my arm
    And we'll be the first to run.
    by Justin3 25 lines, on Dec 8 5:20 AM 2008. In Nature, Prose-poetry
  • Slums
    A priest of Nature, I walk down slopes beguiled by balconies seducing the limestone of the earth.Seeing young idlers and old mistresses, they bless the winds with a kiss of steel and plagiarise the vows of the waves.
    by Justin3 18 lines, 2 comments, on Nov 17 12:34 PM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • The Four Poems Of The Compass
    A butterfly settles on the nameless Dome
    And cries aloud to call his Satyr's
    by Justin3 70 lines, 5 comments, on Nov 9 4:36 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • The Four Poems Of The Compass
    Upon the waves, silent, dreaming, the dying boat lets me drift where the sapphire lichen doesn't grow.Far from the black skylines and away from the bells of pollen.Going nowhere, being the only son of the dawn, I dip into a h
    by Justin3 70 lines, on Nov 9 4:34 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Gathering
    The monument of the triumphant death is bleeding.Bronze faith, writhing eyes, mouths agape, wondering when they will serve the stars: could we know what they renounce? Sleepless flags, tricolors and borders, bordering now and
    by Justin3 0 lines, on Nov 3 8:54 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Prayers And Dances
    Quietly she prays, in the little wayside chapel.Lone, vigilant, wrinkles smoothened out in the morning breeze.She is once more a child: let
    by Justin3 20 lines, 1 comment, on Oct 31 2:54 AM 2008. In Tradition, prose-poetry
  • Silhouettes Departing
    The last breath leaves the dark-skinned woman in the middle of the avenue.No blood, no struggle, just a small death.Passionately she dies, eyes smiling, unmoving, like the hunched Virgin proud in her black sorrow.No one sees
    by Justin3 12 lines, 1 comment, on Oct 31 2:40 AM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • The Bike Girl
    She was bred for intercoastal airs
    by Dragomiloff 40 lines, 4 comments, on Oct 25 8:21 PM 2008. In Prose-Poetry, Contemporary, Fantasy
  • Eternity In Seconds
    Are the tables still warm and grinning, are the trees still swaying, ocasionally masking the novel signs, and the young friends still re-living Venus' tales under the golden rails?
    by Justin3 10 lines, 1 comment, on Oct 25 2:31 PM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Shipwreck Of Sympathy
    The seasons are our pawns! They are a myth; shaken by the prophecy of the orange blossoms.
    by Justin3 19 lines, 1 comment, on Oct 21 4:31 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Silent Lyre
    A lyre waits in silence.The silence waits for the lyre's melody.It's strings are hour hands, any hand of the sun's skin that plays them would break them loose from the Fates.Only a kiss from lips of the half-moon could awaken
    by Justin3 19 lines, on Sep 28 9:10 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Invocations Of Baptism
    I am your other sex; girl with the brown curls lingering upon the last doubts of destiny.See the white tiles beneath your feet - horizon within arms' length - and I will make them into experiences.Gallant experiences, shallow
    by Justin3 23 lines, 1 comment, on Sep 18 9:12 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Salute Of The Saints
    The street is sewn with my tears.It pulsates with the noise of the brilliant children.Neon nymphs scamper through the alleys and scatter light: rainbow without sky, darkness beneath every light.A tower of words - a Babel with
    by Justin3 23 lines, on Sep 7 9:38 AM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Last Candidate
    The virgin plays with her hair on top of the naked balcony.The railings hold her secret, they paint it white when the sun peers through the steeple and the soaring alley.
    by Justin3 17 lines, on Sep 6 2:58 AM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Scene From A Nightclub
    Crazy,blind,frenzy...why? Hammocks without stars rest in the eyes of writhing lizards, crawling.And I, a fiend, silent, protecting heaven and hell for myself.Dancers in the corner carry the burden of their vices on their back
    by Justin3 0 lines, 2 comments, on Sep 1 5:54 AM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Return
    Passageways hiding the vice of their protectors, give way, behind trees of sulphur that breaks the day in two.No word could etch the southern morn, no voice think of the norhtern afternoon: fountains scribble porcelain charac
    by Justin3 8 lines, on Aug 25 3:35 PM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Uncertainty
    Uncertainty, behind doors, daring the corridors to flicker:Inside, out.Nothing to touch, untouched by everything.Now then and when a simili
    by Justin3 2 lines, 2 comments, on Aug 24 12:35 PM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Children Of The Waves
    Why don't you come with me one day, and we'll go to the little fishing village guarding the bustling coast? I've got the foaming waves too deep in my skin, and even through the red nightmares of the night, I can still hear th
    by Justin3 0 lines, on Aug 5 9:15 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Southern Winds
    In the trees a private Mosque lurks in disguise.When the winds blow against the brown leaves, the prayers can be heard echoing on the pier.The coastline bears the name of its conquerors of old, who now rule nothing but their
    by Justin3 8 lines, 1 comment, on Jul 15 9:31 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Imperial Immortality
    "Hurry away from the cliffs
    A rose awaits you in bloom;
    by Justin3 23 lines, 1 comment, on Jul 11 11:29 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • As She Eats
    Thank you for offering, your hospitality is endless, but I really don't need anything right now, I'm fine really.By all means you go on ahead, I'll just sit down and look at the window that reflects you. How do your
    by Justin3 13 lines, 1 comment, on Jun 28 7:06 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Antiquity
    I am nothing, yet something is keeping me from being everything.Shrouds of glass disguise the fasting trio, passing through the world.Steps impossible to ignore: intently I listen to the sea without a face. Upon a co
    by Justin3 28 lines, 1 comment, on Jun 27 1:30 PM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Lost At The Horns Of Hattin
    Every morning the angels paint them in gold:
    Prayer made eternal by the eastern winds."
    by Justin3 114 lines, 1 comment, on May 30 4:31 PM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Shivering House
    Silence will prevail.
    by Justin3 12 lines, 1 comment, on May 7 4:33 AM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Bouquet Of Stars
    Millions of feet have travelled this road, that ends the night, before me.How could this be, when behind and ahead of me there are only two hundred feet treading on the dead greyness? They must have walked it more than once,
    by Justin3 23 lines, on Apr 4 8:53 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • The Steel Touch Of Rebellion
    The street I walk upon, the grey pavement; burial of a thousand natures, is all made of a hollow wood.Walking by an avenue of villas with names worshipping a history untold, unseen, I see their owners walking.They have seen r
    by Justin3 18 lines, on Apr 3 1:27 PM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Running Upon Iron Scales
    I look at your eyes, I look at your face, I move my eyes with your every sigh, I blink with your heart's every beat, I listen to the melancholy tap of your feet.I see you, but you do not see what I see.Why do you sigh methodi
    by Justin3 10 lines, on Mar 28 6:58 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Prophecy Of The Mediterrenean
    The pavements are dry; the crevices between them are drunk from de-hydration.They do not blame the sun, the sun revolves around itself, all the gods and insects follow it like a beetle clinging to flourescent dung.Who do they
    by Justin3 8 lines, 2 comments, on Mar 26 5:32 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • The Recluse's Death-Bed
    His life soon dies
    But his death lives,
    by Justin3 22 lines, 1 comment, on Jan 25 12:28 PM 2008. In prose-poetry
  • Tainted Birth
    My dreams were born
    From a menage a trois of
    by Justin3 28 lines, 5 comments, on Jan 11 8:57 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Before Morning
    Before morning my eyes open to see a dimly lit room: Room of the ages, room without towers, there is nothing for you to hide so why immerse yourself in this fragile darkness? I know all your secrets for your secrets are mine;
    by Justin3 6 lines, 2 comments, on Jan 9 9:49 AM 2008. In Prose-poetry
  • Sweet Martyr
    Delivered by the hands of wisdom
    Cradling new-born art.
    by Justin3 42 lines, 4 comments, on Dec 24 1:28 PM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Death Likes Pretty Girls
    Tell me, when were you born?
    Was it on a beautiful morn,
    by Justin3 26 lines, 3 comments, on Dec 19 2:18 PM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Last Word
    The one thing above all others that sets man apart from other animals is the fatalistic gene; fear of evil, fear of an ever present end.For what else is there to set us apart? Is it politics? I see no difference in a baboon s
    by Justin3 6 lines, 2 comments, on Dec 19 8:54 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry, essay
  • Looking For Angels
    Thus speaks he whom nobody owns.Revolving doors of a hotel open with the charm of a reluctant murderer, to beg me to enter the world of morning, drowned in hollow air.I look back to the floor of the hotel on which I slept; Ho
    by Justin3 6 lines, 6 comments, on Dec 18 2:59 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • And if this is inspiration muses are fucking sick
    by Aixerona 5 lines, 3 comments, on Dec 2 1:05 PM 2007. In Prose-Poetry, Adult, Personal, Rape
  • The End, Creator Of The New
    Yesterday, upon the rising
    Of the evening star
    by Justin3 31 lines, 4 comments, on Nov 26 12:51 PM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Tortured Voices Wearing Red
    I will see you on the other side of the night
    When you will once again become my Only Light
    by Justin3 36 lines, 3 comments, on Nov 23 7:32 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Sanctuary From The Night
    They embrace victory with a childish smile
    Thick clouds are gathering all the while.
    by Justin3 53 lines, 4 comments, on Nov 21 5:24 PM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Evening With The Young Moon And Beer
    Problems are a burden we all must bare
    But they are not so bad when we have someone with which to share.
    by Justin3 23 lines, 3 comments, on Nov 20 4:41 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Prayers Of Venus In Dances
    And I see from the corner of my half-closed eyes; Death with a sincerely pleased grin on his face.
    by Justin3 18 lines, 4 comments, on Nov 20 3:56 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • The End Of Sorrow
    If you find us we will give you the sun and the moon
    But first you must overcome the Age of Materialistic Doom.
    by Justin3 51 lines, 1 comment, on Nov 16 3:55 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • The Man Who Sold His Soul
    "There is such beauty to be seen
    The mind opens to the eye's amazement."
    by Justin3 50 lines, 3 comments, on Nov 14 5:44 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry
  • Wisdom Of The Half-Dead
    "Find the giver of life and embrace him
    He can be found in the deepest reaches of the well."
    by Justin3 33 lines, 3 comments, on Nov 13 6:51 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry, Spiritual
  • Listening To Pagans
    If I am to save myself I must break her heart
    You are urging me to break your heart...Why?
    by Justin3 28 lines, 3 comments, on Nov 13 2:22 AM 2007. In Prose-poetry, Other
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