Category Archives: 30 for 30 Poetry Celebration

CLOTHES THE DOOR I caught you tiptoeing out of burnt charcoal shadows no longer sequestered among the zipped zebra-stripes of my cross-worded life triumphantly, you escaped leapt toward me jolting me backwards but in practiced robotic reflex I regained balance … Continue reading →

LINGERING LOST LOVE I gazed out the doorway All I could see was milk sky. Water still as ice. I was consumed with love. I lost your love Above that brief reverie The dark air came in like a shroud … Continue reading →

This poem is available as a PDF to preserve formatting. Please click on the link: Behind Closed Doors © 2017 P.S. Perkins Pamela “P.S.” Perkins, author, poet, thespian, dancer/choreographer, storyteller, theatrical consultant, entrepreneur – is passionate about WORD POWER. Her … Continue reading →

Whispers Wild A boy Cast in bronze Dressed in black Hooded cloak frames Bone white face Running full stride Headlong into strong wind Black pants and cape Rippling behind Gloved palms push out One leg thrust fiercely back His mouth … Continue reading →

Rooted “Trauma keeps us standing in the same place” —Marilyn Kallet, Sept. 11 2016 Ghosts keep floating from the screen though the television has been turned off body after body like laundry in the wind Protoplasm writhing in suits from … Continue reading →

Roadkill (patterned on Shakespeare’s Sonnet 19) Clenched firmly in the armadillo’s paws, a beer can glimmers. Ever shall I brood upon the day Love caught me in its jaws here at the Texas Road House, in cold blood. Unbridled two-step … Continue reading →

MR. Crae Crae Your crazy makes my crazy Not seem crazy at all After giving it a second thought Do not ever give me a call Things you say and do each day are Not the way I want to … Continue reading →

Rapunzalene Rapunzalene was a ghetto queen She had the biggest Black hair I’d ever seen There were always questions when the day was done Because underneath that wild wig she carried her son. He had no Daddy, or at least … Continue reading →

Crepuscule with Callie Waves of scent wash over her: urine (human and animal) sweat   damp wool bad coffee no cream worse cigarettes flame a perfume called Joy. A landscape quakes: calico tuxedo gray orange white black tabby Manx. The notes … Continue reading →

A Day At The Fair Because I missed you so much I entered the contest. It was easy. The only requirement was that I cut a heart out of the center of my head. It would grow back. Even if … Continue reading →