Poetry – James True

When knees fall

July 23, 2011August 28, 2018 Poetry, Writing 1

When knees touch ground, the sacred seem to listen. Knees do not bend in trivia. Like a page folded from our story. Knees mark

December 15, 2010August 28, 2018 Poetry, Writing 1

With hands free my words can drip from this pen. From the peak of a mountain of consonants I can vowel at the moon.

March 18, 2010August 28, 2018 Poetry, Writing 1

I have a box of snapshots taken from a Christmas parade. Glossy smiles I caught perching on a horse and buggy. Groundhog people rose

March 18, 2010August 28, 2018 Poetry, Writing 1

There you pine, jailed in that ribcage. The little plastic army men are keeping you at bay. Turnstiles click at each year’s passing. Neon

October 28, 2008January 23, 2019 Poetry, Writing 5

Can you hear the snow’s quiet trumpet? Its silent song serenading the gray. Cold flakes falling in the ballroom of winter. Gravity tickles lose

October 27, 2008January 22, 2019 Poetry, Writing 3

Oh memory’s tower, how long overdue is this inspection. Today, I behold thee, my monument to passing. You are my stronghold, my bastion of