#AmericanWriters
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant…
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press