Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Love and Dust

Man, It's late!
And that "purple dusk" is not an hour, but a decade.
How long since you wandered down the lane?

Love and Dust.

Little scratches in the groove from so much play.
I can't forget you. I can't forget you.
Dreaming of a song.

Love and Dust

I was never near that garden.
Where the flower blooms.
I dream in vain.

Love and Dust

Little stars climb.
Will not die.
Now my consolation

This nightengale

Thursday, February 23, 2006


My sand, if it can be any man's,
falling with a gentle sibilence,
less course than the breaking curls
of the indifferent pacific,
leaving my hand, finally,
with a soiled memory,
ghost of my own choosing,
a film which I can no longer see,
no longer feel, but will exist
until I forget. Forget my own hand,
having held at the same time
such joy and sorrow
in the curving face of a winter's moon.
When the sound falls into silence,
my hand empty,
what is it that I can call my own?

Friday, February 17, 2006


This corner, where walls meet
The paint cracks
Signs of age, when was it made?

Coat upon coat, but no warmth
Covering the past
In a rich new layer, can you smell?

The greens and browns of yesterday
Drying forgotten
Under a new stroke, remember?

That glossy wash spread wide
But thin
A little wear, and the illusion is exposed

By a few chips and some dust
Off color
Where the walls come together