Corn I AM


lets shuck these green folds of

corn skin that cover me

my kernel is sweet

I am….

rows and rows of friends

walking stiffly forward

a drama unplanned, randomly perfect,

an organised chaos

I in my gold pants and flourishing breasts

like waterfalls of flesh

sun bleached dunes

parting veils

dripping butter

smiling in a tempest of




This is magical…..

a world

where a kernel of corn

is the meaning of life






Published by The Silver Poet

I AM a little spark in the sea of conscious awareness. I am passionate about bringing the concept of freedom of expression into the forefront of our one mind and a keen awareness of personal power to the hearts of little children everywhere. I exist to express!

32 thoughts on “Corn I AM

      1. One can never pass a chance to be “corny”. Hominy is very popular in the USA south where it is served with gravy and butter in a variety of ways.

        But on the serious side, I very much enjoy your art.

        – bw


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Silver Poetry

All That Glitters Is Not Gold

Unfettered BS

it is all just bullshit anyway.....


Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told

Post Scriptum Poets

Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything

InkBlots and IceBergs

musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry

This and That

In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.


Scripting the desires that are soul deep

Cosmos Reflection

poetry that speaks to you

Africa Zwelibanzi

The Poetry Monarch.

Jeffrey Pillow

Life, death, and everything in between

Purple Haze

Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!

The Lonely Author

Pain goes in, love comes out.

The Realm

well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.

SouL SpeakS

He started Writing, The paper started speaking...

%d bloggers like this: