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Winfield’s Poetry Writings | Winfield's World
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8230;Keepin It Old School Like The Old School…. Winfield’s Poetry Writings. Winfield’s Poetry Writings. Who We Might Be, And Probably Are. Like A Summer Sunrise In Williamstown. The Root of All Evil. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email.
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The Root of All Evil | Winfield's World
https://winfieldswanderings.wordpress.com/2009/02/23/the-root-of-all-evil
8230;Keepin It Old School Like The Old School…. Winfield’s Poetry Writings. The Root of All Evil. February 23, 2009. Root of all evil. Is(are) the root of all evil. People turned to savages. Scavengers off the unable. And this non-action IS action,. The ever omnipresent “they”. Subconsciously sways public opinion. Our thoughts, agendas and expressions. Bent to any whim. We are spoon fed diluted information. Turned into willing participants. If we bide our time long enough. But the thing about. Enter your...
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Simply Stephy Sneezy | Winfield's World
https://winfieldswanderings.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/simply-stephy-sneezy
8230;Keepin It Old School Like The Old School…. Winfield’s Poetry Writings. April 26, 2009. From → Grab Bag. Larr; The Root of All Evil. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email. You Got Dunked On!
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Winfield's Poetry Corner: Summer Sunrise in Williamstown
http://wpoetrycorner.blogspot.com/2008/10/summer-sunrise-in-williamstown.html
Friday, October 10, 2008. Summer Sunrise in Williamstown. The world is quiet. As 'Prelude to Sunrise' crescendos,. Sheep Hill trembles with life. Early morning's mist beads on the cheek. Of every leaf,. Trailing down the cleavage. To the tips,. Teardrops hanging from every lash,. Weeping at creation's beauty. And like I know this place,. This place knows me with bittersweet fondness. A chilled warmth,. Like a summer sunrise in Williamstown. First light fuses past the horizon,. And with the sun,.
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Winfield's Poetry Corner: January 2009
http://wpoetrycorner.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html
Thursday, January 8, 2009. I want to inflict. If not for sanity,. The malice I harbor. Would allow my death. Who holds my love. For the way she. Leaves me emotionally impotent,. I would make it. So she would never. My passing would be heroic…. Like saving her life,. From out of in front of a bus. To always make her wonder. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Subscribe To Winfield's Poetry Corner. The 10 Most Instagrammed Places of 2016. Oregon Ducks Blog by Bob Rickert - OregonLive.com. You Got Dunked On.
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Winfield's Poetry Corner: October 2008
http://wpoetrycorner.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html
Saturday, October 18, 2008. I have only seen him wear it once,. The day of Papa's funeral. A dulled gold watch,. Kept atop his chest of drawers. In one of his weathered wooden boxes,. Under ancient receipts, credit cards. And childhood pictures of his children. Me and him,. He showed it to me right before he put it on. As he first clasped that weary watch to his wrist,. My hero began to deteriorate. Tears in his eyes,. He looked at his last son. Not even yet a man. Three came before me. Coffee and a hug.
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Winfield's Poetry Corner: Animus
http://wpoetrycorner.blogspot.com/2009/01/animus.html
Thursday, January 8, 2009. I want to inflict. If not for sanity,. The malice I harbor. Would allow my death. Who holds my love. For the way she. Leaves me emotionally impotent,. I would make it. So she would never. My passing would be heroic…. Like saving her life,. From out of in front of a bus. To always make her wonder. There is a strange strength in this poem, but as a woman it makes me shudder! As for the poem itself, I like it for the flow and the poignance. Email it to me at chaikadai@gmail.com.
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Winfield's Poetry Corner: Lost Friends
http://wpoetrycorner.blogspot.com/2008/10/elasticity-of-us-was-unparalleled-we.html
Tuesday, October 14, 2008. The elasticity of us. Was unparalleled, we thought. Holding a bond, strong. Enough to endure the detailed illustrations of. Serrated our synthetic amity and it bleeds me. Like how we came to pretend. Coffee and a hug. Every now and then. Kind of, sort of makes. But who, in your world, could I play. In a reoccurring role? Syringing my faux feelings to make your heart beat or risk. My true nature exposed. In relation to your Stimpy? Are we not broken,. Kind of, sort of. 127 hours...
