confession is all:
it is what my poetry is,
and that is my life.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
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Reach for the clouds. . .
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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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 ...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
Life is as beautiful as a poetry as of your haiku.
ReplyDeleteNice thought!
and so it is ~
ReplyDeletelovely haiku~
very true for all poets! lovely haiku! ♥
ReplyDeleteA bold and confident confession!! :)
ReplyDeletenice! so simple yet effective! ;)
ReplyDeleteOur work is an extension of therapy -- often a cathartic one! Great job!!
ReplyDeleteConfessing through poetry and writing can be so liberating. Thanks for the beautiful haiku.
ReplyDeletewell said in such simple words :)
ReplyDeleteVery simple and yet a great write...:)
ReplyDeletehttp://sandhyaguptamp.blogspot.com/2011/08/confession.html
It's hard to hide much if you're a poet!
ReplyDeleteYeah, I can relate to this :)
ReplyDeletewhat a real confession that is :-)
ReplyDelete