You, look out the window.
See that there is more to life
than what bangs around in your brain
These frustrations in me coarse
from there to my feet and back
again, And oh how it burns, red
I want to take flint to the
rocks in your head.
But I stand beside you,
I stand waiting,
no longer negating,
I ignore the dirt lining the sill
I forget that I have a separate will
and I stand beside you.
Tickle your toes. . .
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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This is just a short note from me to inform you that after my extensive monthly study and subsequent written exploration of Psalms and Prove...
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked... -
July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
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You are not the first to ache and turn green, ill from the motion sicknesses and poisoned canteen-- As you hike up the hill of "What if...
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Tangible branches bow to meet me Oh, how they bend to my will They don't snap; brittle and stale When pressed for comfort They never fee...
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner.... -
I am unique. "Fellow" Christians: I am a Christian but I DON'T buy into your right wing bullshit. Think. Then Speak. My"a...
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silver-tongued wings flapping bones split but connect to each other every few inches. arms opened create flight-lips purse full of gold word...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
Poets United Contributor
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