The Poet's House

#poetry

  • Waiting On Ice

    I stand upon the ice fieldlooking out to the horizonthe midnight sun is far behind meyet the darkness remains. Soon the redness of a new dayshall seep onto the canvass of lifesoon the ice will breakand I will be free.… Continue reading

  • In Death

    there is no hypocrisy in deathas there is in lifefor the great swell of our existencefesters in regret death will rectify that swellequalize it without remorsebring true the justification of our totalitythat we are nothing more than one part of… Continue reading

  • Dead Poets Hang in The Night

    by Michael Plante Tethered by a noosethe poet awaitsholding dead flowers and a broken heart.His light extinguished and the binding of his life forever crackedthe noose is his only company. The stench of society putrid to him nowdistasteful indeed.Man is… Continue reading

  • I Come from The North

    I am Nanook.I was forged in the cold and the darkness of a barren land.In the arctic we live the hard way.We kill to survive.We survive to make lovein the barren land of the north. I know no pityand understand… Continue reading

  • Life Crafted

    by Michael Plante Can you see yourself floating on the seasin a little craft;waves lappingthe sun is shininga slight breeze brushes your cheeka cloud rolls by to say “Hello”and you laugh because it looks like a smile? At that moment… Continue reading