Author: Arthur Petersen

[inspired by the film Laugh, Clown, Laugh] She was tied to a stump by the river I raised her on no one’s behalf But the man who won her heart in the end Was the man compelled to laugh Go see the clown who’ll turn your frown...

Her heart is a well. Deep Profound Undepletable. But, you only dare to draw a small portion of what is below. For, the rope is Tattered Forlorn Breakable. Your dry throat itches as the winch turns and creaks so slow. The bucket...

If you follow my instructions You will utterly succeed But if you disobey You will not be well received Follow every line And every word inside this poem, And if a rhyme sounds weird, Don’t slow down, just keep a goin’ Poets...

I am a fireball I burn and shine Over the vast, vast world, Full of obstacles Which only come into view When my light is near And so, to me each is new I burn those difficulties: Across my journey They cower under my burning...

Insects despise you in a peculiar way. It is not that you are titanic and can smite. Or even that you have sent so many to meet their maker throughout your careless, barbaric life. Nor is it jealousy of the power to live far too...