(2015)
This is a univocal lipogram poem, where only one vowel is used throughout the poem
#Lipogram #Wind
If I could pray, I would pray that you all enjoy your lives. Final, but not ultimate, enjoyment of the self and restlessness.
Do I dare sing of love in the middle of the night? When ghosts of family past stand in my sight? They judge me
Stardust in the mind, I contemplate in exact answers, precise manners, for the fulfillment of a question that beckons forgiveness.
I sat in a lowly lit room in a harsh winter night, fallen into a sense of despair and feeling brutalized by life.
She sat there across the table from me as music blared through the night sky. Heavy majestic clouds,
Everything is a reaction to everything. This sentence is a reaction to the last. The periods at the end are all rea…
I have seen my own death, it isn’t pretty. My face as a corpse is unkempt. It’s ok, I wasn’t perfect. It is strange,
Has a road to it. For the living and the dying, for the distinct sensation of convenience and order. We live by convenience.
Others in landscapes, perennial dr… caressed by conscious and turbulen… Oh that it may how I wish it were… sailing amidst my turbulent sea. An unconscious mast imposing above…
This little book of rhyme holds captive my heart. No, my mind’s the real upstart. Credit to my heart’s a crime. Desperation took the real blow
Do your work and remove yourself. Don’t check the follower count. You are a rock, immoveable in your… You are the river that breathes an… You are provider. And receiver.
The rain was not refreshing. we waited and waited on those barren, thirsty desert hills. But no rain came.
There was a joke I was going to write, a really good joke, but I have forgotten it. A shame, now all that’s left is the television blaring in front of me, sounds of “The Price is Right”...
The stars above us live gigantic lives, and they allow us a shimmering glimpse in the eve of every night.
It’s loud here. Friday darkness, with voices clamoring over the clinking of plates and utensils.