. Shape blankets field– these bones forget empty years; wars still rise on the wind like poppies. .
Comments closed. Shape blankets field– these bones forget empty years; wars still rise on the wind like poppies. .
Comments closed. The arranger stands poised with quiver and quill. Creating new words and firing at will. Shooting at stars as they fall from the sky,…
Comments closed. –His paint brush quivered. Drips of paint rolled to his fine tip— and the armless skies opened.
Comments closed. How deep will he go inside of his self? Will he apprehend the poet- or set him high on the shelf? When given the…
Comments closed. He hung his head low and said, “Terminal.” Is it all predecided– the way our days are spent? All the ink hasn’t dried, or…
Comments closed. Fusion– a mastermind might find confusin’! An obtrusion, a tree that hides a rabbit from an eagle. Jumping into a mirage that you thought…
Comments closed. Eternity still holds a firm grip on my gaze– my wonder. It leads me down meandering streams, Beneath the lofty willows; Washing me upon…
Comments closed. I turned around and –I sighed and waved. They tossed in the final shovel of dirt over the sad, fading eyes of a lingering,…
Comments closed. . These wrought iron dreams won’t bend in the wind anymore. Unleashed immortal magick mimics death within the hazy orb of crystal, while the…
Comments closed~His eyes are in the palm of his hand, the blue sky– all in his mind. He wants to find new colors– Who knows what…
Comments closed. When I was Adam’s apple– tender pain shot to my core. The burden of mass starvation came knocking on MY door. Tempests that began…
Comments closed. Even a deceptive moon caresses every tender new leaf. Taut tongues whisper to their emerging solitude– –Distrust can be a clever curtain like doubt…
Comments closed. -friendship no water required it sails on pure trust- .
Comments closed. I peek through the keyhole and try to smell freedom drifting on a steel breeze– My window vibrates with distant echos of laughter and…
Comments closed. The teacher has the mouth of a poet– an inclined pronoun shackles her tone. Even the trees sit and toss acorns toward her open…
Comments closed. If I could just blame it on the shadows, maybe I could forget about the rain. Am I all alone in this universe? Is…
Comments closed. My hands take custody of– her full plump cheeks, almost as rosy as her lips. Her eyes get so blue during the eclipse of…
Comments closed. I, being of tyro status, have chosen this sybaritic profession– –I begin at the mouth until my chrysalis is dangling in the eye of…
Comments closed. Impaled with shriveled, sunken sockets, hung out to dry in the sun. They crawled up the living crucifix, struggling to be the first to…
Comments closed. Assembling shade from shards and large pieces, a creaking canopy o’er my daily bread. Cedar trees line the old crippled creek gulch, looming like…
Comments closed