Posts
-
Winter
Was it light in the morning,
when the fog was thick on the water,
and the world was cracking its eyelids at the dawn?
Did the thin layers of ice persuade you?
-
End Zone
Repair the world,
pull off the patterned papers.
Leave the walls all bare and empty,
no toll, free entry.
-
Gray October Rain
Leaves fallen, trod upon,
whisper of discarded dreams
as they crack
under your weight.
It’s your world
-
Behind the Perfect Imperfections
Behind the walls,
behind the fences.
Behind the perfect,
the imperfections.
Swallow my pride,
I am not
-
Now is a tree
Now is a tree,
a place that is made of history.
Feel with your fingers
for lines etched in the bark,
the future is there
-
Loves
-
Vase
What am I?
A doormat for your shoes?
Cobblestone for your steps?
Am I meant for nothing more
than a book, open pages,
assigned by your english professor,
-
ARS POETICA (capitalized for emphasis) ((a college poem about poetry))
More often than not you will find language will bow for you
Put your palms on a notebook you filled as a child and with enough intention the push will bring up sentences and phrases you'd forgotten
-
-
anatomy of a broken heart
I.
A small brush of fingers,
Biting your lips to stop a smile,
Choking on the words,
Dancing late under streetlights,
Everything could change with one slip,
Find my waist, feel my heartbeat,
-
ywp is a movement of poets
a community of fools
given the power to combine words
and a pen
that can write so much meaning
in just two, or three, or millions of words,
and sometimes, there aren't enough
-
If
I —
I could.
I could, love.
I could love you.
I could love you if…
I —I wanted.
I wanted to.
I wanted to, love.
