#AmericanWriters
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
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,
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
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…
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.
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
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?
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running