silver-tongued wings flapping
bones split but connect to each other every few inches.
arms opened create flight-lips purse full of gold
words, please peak and fly and sigh and cry and die
words please break out like clicking, snapping bones,
like outstretched fingers-the throat is your captor
your body over mind, and mind not over body-
disconnect from platforms-rise above it all.
Tickle your toes. . .
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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I swing in a mini skirt and pill box hat, cat-eyes and pompadour hair, wild in my Stiletto-heeled shoes- and I skulk in a monk dress with th...
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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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Happy April. I am currently working on this month's series "you don't remember anything, even though you were there." ov...
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shake up my heart and flavor your life it is full of holes. you cannot see me for I am brow deep in my old pain and I cannot speak because I...
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Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
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This week has allowed me to get back in the swing of things to use a cliche that I adore. This particular cliche allows me to be vague with ...
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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
where I'm coming from- you cannot "see"-self-blinded- and not listening.
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all is up. a dreamy boy fills your legs with such a torso- he acts like your tongue is hard candy- and the crust in your eyes is cinnamon.
Poets United Contributor
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