Areese Woodson Poems

Storm clouds brush across a puddle,
Masking patterns from galleries.
Sighs of thunder drum in winds,
As rain illustrates verses coursing through the standing spirits of mirages,
...

Gentle cottoned brushes,
A wink of bold shine;
In one eye paints Earth a shade of singing purple-orange.
Across the other, are warm writings of verses,
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A screaming current,
With eyes tasting the ground;
That's me.
Hands strangling bars of frozen mist;
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Dear Black Mother

Sorry...
I know -
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I remember hearing the blustering roars of lions,
The electrifying laughs of hyenas,
Seeing strapping runs of cheetahs,
Watching sand swoop in the air,
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The Immaculateness of the bronze in your eyes eldulcorates the shadiness in mine.
Each of your eye lashes is a ravishing poem prolonging pages with knowledge.
Your head is the moonlight illuminating the stories in each of your locks in the midst of a resting day.
The lambent color of your smile is the light that wakens the day.
...

Tenebrous clouds gather,
Enveloping the sky.
Immersed in his rest,
So buried within the dream,
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The blistering daylight star -
Starting days -
Walks to the other side of the Earth.
Dusk to dawn came to ourside;
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Stars made over the Earth with shade with shade.
Their steady eyes rest on her portrait.
She smiles as a queen holding a life in her arms;
Flowing as a newborn poet.
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An enigmatic painter coats a vast cerulean.
Perhaps a book -
Sheets sheathing words like cadaverous bodies,
Mirroring the dead sun's illusion.
...