Silver Girl. Free Verse Poetry.
Written and performed by Samuel M. Bednarz.
“‘I sometimes feel like I’m being pretentious when I’m doing these. But the feelings are genuine. The words are real and it comes from a place of honesty.” – Samuel M. Bednarz
Find more works by this writer at:
https://riseofawriter.com/ … More Silver Girl
I just launched my third video poem over on our YouTube page. Go check it out and tell me what you think. Like and subscribe for more content. … More Branch Children
There’s a stranger in my bed.
Sleeping by my side.
Though I have known him for longer then I care to admit,
I still find I don’t know him at all.
… More Stranger
Walls, walls, like standing floors. Like borders of my conscious space, like the edge of where my eyes are allowed to reach. Walls that support the roof to protect me from the rain but equally to keep me from the light of the sun and away from the curious gaze of the stars. … More Walls
Spending my days speaking French with my books and writing poems with my eyes to the timeless tunes of Sarah Vaughan. … More Modest Magic
The trash can knows more about you then any other furniture in your house. There’s a school trash can sitting right there in front of me, red and rectangular about the height of my knee caps or just beneath them with a transparent bag folding much too far over its edge like someone was in a hurry to ready it. I dear not speak ill of this trash can. … More The Devious Trash Can.
“I wonder what you’re doing now,
I wonder where, I wonder how.
I wonder why and sometimes who,
spends their time along whit you” … More a Wonder.
“she leans in towards me and grants me a single kiss before she slowly lays down on my chest like a leaf continuously crossing its own path slowly sailing downwards to the ground on the small breath of air left by the wind jet to be put to rest by the emptiness left at play.” … More Silver Girl
Self-consuming selfie. Yourself and the machine. Hiding in a picture. From the camera gleam. Stitching down the edges. Patching up a dream. Looking at the treading. Tracing every seam. Lies and cover photos. A life to which you stream. But such are only pictures. That lives in a machine. Excerpt from: How to make love(Click to read more like this); by Samuel Mork … More The Selfie is a Lie.
“The ravens gather in the mast and bend my hefty sails, as your eyes are drowning in the past the planks beneath me fail.” … More Sinking Boat