I assume that anyone reading this, has at some point, had a need to write. A burning sensation in your gut or brain or heart telling you to write down your thoughts or feelings or ideas. These early days of this desire are exciting, and the ideas flow out for better or worse. In the [...]
Where the author smugly shares his random thought of the day I'm pretty sure boredom and lack of sleep can cause internal bleeding. I will keep you all updated...maybe.
Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. April Rain Song BY LANGSTON HUGHES Let the rain kiss you.Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.The rain makes running pools in the gutter.The rain plays a little sleep-song [...]
Where the author unapologetically posts music he likes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vp5qJlr4go0
Where the author smugly shares his random thought of the day I challenge you to name one thing, other than children, that is simultaneously the best thing and the worst thing to have ever happen to you. Ima guess you can't!
Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. AFTER THE SPRING The first hay is in and all at oncein the silent evening summer has comeknowing the place wholly the green skinof its hidden slopes where the shadows willnever reach so far again and a fewgray hairs motionless high in the latesunlight tell of [...]
Where the author unapologetically posts music he likes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNRLWKzPEw4
Where the author smugly shares his random thought of the day I have finally hit the age where yawning and stretching at the same time could permanently injure me.
Where the author shamelessly plugs his Poetry. Loss, in Three Haiku I perched high, shadow tree sitting below, two lovers surveying their death II dragonflies buzz by eyes meet, fingers touch, smiles fade their hour is over III breeze of sweet decay hugs exchanged, embraced good-bye blackbirds softly weep First published in the October 2018 [...]
Where the author pretentiously post a poem he enjoys. BODIES, FLOWERBEDSfrom Bird From Africa by Viola AlloThe earth, carved up, engraved with bodies,this hollow vision of death: people restingtogether, bodies beneath a bed of flowers. We soften death into poems and stories.The art of writing is just a way of wailingfor the earth, carved up, sculpted by [...]