Michael Allyn Wells

Burn The Beauty ©  Elizabeth McCrorie   Published: July 2008 One does not own beauty. One creates it. In their dreams, They feel the...

is it normal this mindset the demonstrative fashion flashy I thought it punitive I thought it course grade sandpaper I thought the ...

A poem I wrote several years ago found a home at Punchnel's.   Hardly Worth Mentioning   is the second poem of mine  to appear in  ...

My poem titles "Both" appears on Punchnel's today. This is a really interesting venue, an eclectic collection of material. Che...

Surround the summit in flight in exacerbation of wingspan a sentinel aloft 

A poem of mine is up at Montucky Review.  A thank you to the Editors!   To view the poem simply titled Sis , Click here

The bent elbow slows progression- force builds pushing the river around over and beyond   the banks like claws snag what is deli...

Earlier this fall my poem Foxtrot appeared in WestWard Quarterly .  Since this is a print publication there is not link to it but now that ...

 How Size Matters a time a place to stop a sofa against a rock solid platitude on the main street of a life of o...

Dana Guthrie Martin asks the poignant  question, "Why does this poet live in my house, and is this the best place for her?"   Her ...

That summer we stuck in the seats of the old Ford our cotton clothing clung to us wet no one dared crank the panes- a few bugs wou...

The flames rise on either side of the curves and the fall wind threatens to spread the colors about the ground. The asphalt with sha...

Ornamental excuses abound. Window dressings, all of them to purchase the justification necessary to have his way when validation was a rabbi...

Humanity spilled- tossed about, jingled in the the pockets like small change. A bit here and a piece there the sum of which is whole but s...

An Audio Link of the revised version of Siblings.

The third movement was less obvious— its sound rooted in the quietude that often passes as peace, but is really just a pause in fighting.

Anniversary The odometer of fallen, rolls onward Over too familiar terrain. A merry-go-round insanity Propelled by stubborn indignity, Denia...

Braking through the layers past linen wrap percolating pulp without reason or necessity till exposure it answers.

Unknowingly I saw the sand bottom out in the egg timer. There were no eggs or time involved. Just an end to something arbitrary- or was tha...