(2015)
How many times does a man have to… How many times does a man have to… How many times does one ask for fo… Tell me God, how many times? I walk along the shoreline alone
Today, we no longer write letters to those we want to fall in love with. Today, poems no longer exist to conquer the girl we want to fall in love with. Today, I confess that I would lik...
They have taken over the storage c… Singing merrily like a ship full o… One time food for a pet amphibian They escaped and reconnoitered the… They rub their legs together
Music took me away from pain to fi… The sounds of the human Soul alon… There are musicians and singers in… The drummer beat drums to convey t… The guitarist plucked and fingered…
Desperately hanging on the edge of… I listen to the lingering whispers Her voice so sedate and soothing Her hands so warm Her body inviting
Oh tis the heart that shatters and… For love is necessary for life to… For who can love Of Love"s full t… Love be the reality I hold, but t… I ask of thee! Why is it life can…
You know what?! Thy! Thine! Mort… A poem is like this, “Ohh, My lov… Nice? I guess so. But why not be true to the words a…
Fingers grazing up your sides, watching you squirm and worm, and wiggle. Your laughter rings like bells, your joking threats as well. You twist and whirl but nothing doing, I’ve got y...
Then, I said, let verse Soar, embellish, settle, explore Soul, strand, air, sea, land, love… Find all of it lost to found that is both dream
A heart so tender... A spirit so fierce... A body so lush... Eyes so deep and bottomless... Her skin like creamy silk..so beau…
who starts to lie and yet he lies not for some glory’s way, but to protect the one he loved each day from his own brain. And once in every place, there is this man with an empty spa...
There I stand. I can see the world go by, interact with it through the magic of thought, but I am not there. I can not be hurt by those things for which I have no control or those thing...
Keep at it until each of you can’t breathe and it’s hard to tell where you stop and she starts and you don’t know what day it is, or week it is, and you really don’t care. Imagine ways...
I wrote a poem about love and It read itself and sneered, yanked the pencil out of my hand, flipped the eraser tip into suicide grip and rubbed
It’ good up here I see the stars Smell the people hear the cars Feel the wind rush by my face Quiver to the Moons’ soft embrace Love runs shallow through my veins