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Greg McVerry / Writing & conversations

Small Poems · Notes

Little poems, gathered over time. Browse posts tagged #smallpoems by type and date.

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461 posts

Greg McVerry

#poetryport #smallpoems To Gonzos of the plow put forth seeds falling from neither's hand grasped together on the wink of the wind working words into

#poetryport #smallpoems To Gonzos of the plow put forth seeds falling from neither's hand grasped together on the wink of the wind working words into fields of wheat our awn of brittle destinies glistening tall on a head of emptiness full of it all leaves drenched in memories that fade in morning sun as collaborative light spills A Cambridge combine harvesti

Greg McVerry

#smallpoems Splintered pasts gather in concrete futures stolen glances of sun's march As two who never were come to be in glimpses of impossible desti

#smallpoems Splintered pasts gather in concrete futures stolen glances of sun's march As two who never were come to be in glimpses of impossible destiny Interest aligned eyes locked destiny's knot unwound as feet wrestle fallen leaves Just as the dogs run determined to get nowhere at all, their paths can never cross Warmed by the pleasure of shared mystery h

Greg McVerry

#smallpoems Tormented by desire I sought refuge in verse to converse with possible futures. A curse sutures failing call time's hearse Days of turmoil

#smallpoems Tormented by desire I sought refuge in verse to converse with possible futures. A curse sutures failing call time's hearse Days of turmoil boil into sleepless nights pen fights reality A machete of possibility pressing on pasts as I lift pen from paper peace escapes her uncaptured heart eases the misery in made up history then I sit. To type the

Greg McVerry

#smallpoems dragon drawn chariots chasing firefish in rivers of knowledge drawn from endless wells of ignorance. sewn together, stiched in time by an

#smallpoems dragon drawn chariots chasing firefish in rivers of knowledge drawn from endless wells of ignorance. sewn together, stiched in time by an arrow piercing the eye of wayward gods wreathed, twisted in folds will the flesh of the hunt serve the sullied at a feast of the righteous? Can those who hear the Way on the river beating upon our shore a hundr

Greg McVerry