Popular Posts

  • Cinderella Song
    She slipped to trip  her slipper fell-- it found its light a wishing well  of painted days  that dreamed of nig...
  • Private Voice
    Yours are the shadows that find my essence; black wilderness breathing raw energy through the rustling of my taffeta where desire awa...
  • Recognition
    Naked beneath stars, I observe our moon and plead frightened hope into the night while touch drifts with veiled chime as a satin flower upo...
  • Fingers Doubled Into Palm
    i. I whisper your name content to mend bruises; feel shame with a new sun bright upon fresh snowfall. ii. My tear captures the metallic t...
  • A letter from Salvador Dalí to Pablo Picasso
    Dearest Pablo, "Oh mon ami, à quel point je me rappelle notre beau déjeuner à Paris. Comme je fier suis de vous appeler ami." My ...
  • Rendezvous
    Storm rages for a distant summer night like sweet molasses from hard sugar cane compressing heartbeats, ever so polite, until soft moonligh...
  • powdered time
    silver spills  fills temples lines windowsills  while perception  drifts through  undulant panes remembers roses  in your ha...
  • Of Mother
    Oriental Bittersweet stretches,  limbs caress three begotten held tightly still  to heart as vines relax;  press against  ...
  • Room For More - Poetic Prose
    Like a bag of sour balls, insecurity rounds my tongue, circles like a vulture ready to pick leftovers from bones already too labored to acc...
  • Third Eye Blind
    I give growth to my own Ushnisha, oh enlightened me! So beautifully blessed to mount upon my elite instrument of grace. Such vision is simp...

Monday, July 25, 2016

leave when broken





her crimson 
crumbled brown
finds comfort 
in his frown

 while unrelenting 
heartache
calls her feet
to hit the ground

 and spill into 
a new life
where he is 
no longer found






Pamela A. Lamppa 
Copyright © 2016 
All Rights Reserved
Posted by at No comments:

Aubade








While eyes are sleepy in the early morn
the birds are chirping in their chirpy way,
and I am staggering to find my brain
inside a coffee cup full to the brim.

 Those pesky birds sing happy melodies
erasing any thought I'd have to smile.
Their song is more like noise inside my head
until I sip my java in the sun.

 Just as my eyes begin to feel the light
I listen to these warblers quite amused
that just a moment prior they were noise
but now they are an aubade to my day.

 This morning ritual begins at dawn
but only in the spring and summer months.
My caffeine and a song to warm my heart.
So simple, yet what more could one desire?




Pamela A. Lamppa 
Copyright © 2016 
All Rights Reserved
Posted by at No comments:

Tracks





I pirouette
within my promenade

 a spin within
this dance
of life

 my journey ventures
on to find 

 those fated dreams
as iron tracks
go on and on 

 then stop.



Pamela A. Lamppa 
Copyright © 2016 
All Rights Reserved
Posted by at No comments:
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)