your only 6 feet awaybut it feels like countless milesi guess the deepest sleeps occur with granite pillowsnow you’re the coldest person with the warmest heartnow you reside in the quietest neighborhood in townwhere the wind through the pines and the occasional flight...
Look: it ripples upon the water, this crumbled moon. Drowning in a shoreline pocked with decayed pilings, Against the abandoned building garland in graffiti, Among the ruins of the mill market unfurled and unfettered In the surge of mortality — there; the heron steps....
i don’t own anything in redno jewels, no scarf, no lipstick, no threadmy eyes turn from bridal gleami don’t know how to respondwhen you call for me every yearlike traditionyou make me sit downand watch the sun seepinto a living roomthat belongs to neither younor to me...
my sculpture (found art) gave me happiness made from a wheel.
By Amanda Wilde We're on the edge of the AegeanI'm under an umbrella made of palm frondshe's standing in the seaI'm watchinghe's skipping rocks. In the sun it's 30Cin the wind and water it's 30FI wonder who he isI know his laugh lines are 100maybe more. Captivated,...
By Kelly Thorn Leave laundry stacked in piles, my loveKeep off the plane, ignore the milesLet broken bulbs stay dark abovePlease stay with us for just a while Keep off the plane, ignore the milesThe meetings and the calls can waitYou needn’t tread the narrow aisleYour...
By Adam Noto Hakarsa Yours, but the world is not mine.Mine, and it's yours the most high.Informal modifier of private binding.You provided this lost puzzle.With hope.
By Temujin Frost This broken little thingHow could it be the answer?Despite the trouble it bringsThis desperate little thingCould be a star dancer? Something which transcends yet definesBeing and timeHow then can I call it mine?Is it I or something I own?How do I make...
By Leonora Anyango When I take the podiumThat day when I declare myself a poet, and let the world beholdWhat my pen had been penning, yesteryears, and todayI will feel light, and stand right and brightI will beckon my heart, from deep within my beingAnd nudge it to...
By Desirae Mercedes Chacon Come, here neath this fleshThat covers bones and susceptible to ailmentsReceiver of the sword & the blanket of our soulsLiquid Gold belonging to the depths of our cordaThe animus to our spiritusThe rush of a Lover’s RiverThe payment of...