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Poetry is lyrics of the soul manifesting seemingly out of thin air. This art is captured in a moment. Vapor words appear dancing around seeking a route to escape. Finding exodus through the pen. The paper soaks in the words attempting to absorb their rich meaning. As you read them allow them to seep into your heart and nourish your spirit. Meditate on these songs that will continue after you read them to echo in your mind. With each stanza your love will crescendo. Inspired words are powerful and will inscribe the soul. They are life to those who dare to utter. Poetry was once bound in volumes ghostly seeking refuge. They have now been loosed from their binds and permitted to roam. House them now in your heart!
I hope you will enjoy reading my work and that it will touch you in some way.
Sincerely,
Pamela
Graduation June 2009
Among the Common
My Blog List
Poetry is lyrics of the soul manifesting seemingly out of thin air. This art is captured in a moment. Vapor words appear dancing around seeking a route to escape. Finding exodus through the pen. The paper soaks in the words attempting to absorb their rich meaning. As you read them allow them to seep into your heart and nourish your spirit. Meditate on these songs that will continue after you read them to echo in your mind. With each stanza your love will crescendo. Inspired words are powerful and will inscribe the soul. They are life to those who dare to utter. Poetry was once bound in volumes ghostly seeking refuge. They have now been loosed from their binds and permitted to roam. House them now in your heart!
I hope you will enjoy reading my work and that it will touch you in some way.
Sincerely,
Pamela
Graduation June 2009
Current Book
- Song Yet Sung by James McBride
- Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
- Tar Baby by Toni Morrison
- Sula by Toni Morrison
Favorite Books
- Black Boy by Richard Wright
- Dreams of My Father by Barack Obama
- Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
© Copyright 2009 Pamela R. Cone All rights reserved.
Unsuspecting
There is a natty kind of mind
That slicks its thoughts,
Culls its oughts,
Trims its views,
Prunes its trues,
And never suspects it is a rind.
Jean Toomer
That slicks its thoughts,
Culls its oughts,
Trims its views,
Prunes its trues,
And never suspects it is a rind.
Jean Toomer
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