 |
Out my half-open window,I could smell the rain that pouredlike a bucket onto the street.And like a woman's fine hair,it weaved back and forthon the ro..
|
 |
~~~The wind will not stop sighing.Its words areinsistent andforeignhour after hour...It runs through the fieldsand sprints through trees,caressing the..
|
 |
Devoted patronshave chosen to stay homeand melt like ice cubes in glasses. Most days here,the sun, in its lazy mood,mopes across the floor to occup..
|
 |
The dirt street was long,with trees on either side;the clouds grey.I met a dog along the way,both of us wanderersacknowledging the other;him looking f..
|
 |
Dear poetessMy pen wants to comment;it desires to reflect your dirty writingwith likewise dirty words,but my morals won't let me.The night is moon-fil..
|
|
Let the night go on,
and on and on
before the serpent,
coiled up
in cool shadows of
infernal thoughts,
gathers evidence
why life is useless
..
|
 |
In Ohio,silver linings are toxic,the ground is groaning,the water is poisonand elephants are crowding the room.Give a man a fish and he'll die.Residen..
|
 |
She wanted to be a poet,not knowing,not understanding,each metaphormuddled the pagewith snarled similesbenign and befuddled.The theme was vague,the am..
|
 |
A variation on another poem I wrote.
|
 |
There's urgent breaking news online...The shooter's still about.Each time I see the tally climbMy faith converts to doubt.~There's blood inside the ch..
|
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This