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 feel put on the spot--
They wrap themselves around me
have always been there; patient.
Oh, broad, unending sky;
Watch me flourish as they do
an ancient traveler;
shadowed in a canopy of lifetimes.
Tickle your toes. . .
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it's not possible. I think the problem must be- too much love and hate.
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When standing in a garden of profundity everything loses it's meaning... and when stopping to smell the chromatic wisdoms you are lost i...
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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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The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
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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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take flight in linen and lace. things will mesh if you want them to. just throw yourself up against it and maneuver dainty fingers over tiny...
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August 2003! A spree, and the W.A.P another month of you and possibly me W.A.P stands for wild animal park, if you don't remember- the ...
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It's not the pen It is the ink But it is the dishes and not the sink and it's never in your eye but in your wink it's just froze...
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The fog has permenantly frosted the window pane- my fingers tracing, communicating nothing, I leave perpetual markings--eternal my love for ...
Poets United Contributor
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