(2015)
I used to look at palaces And see no further than old bricks… I used to look at mountains And only see muck and strain! I used to look at camera lens
You dare question my love for you.… I know I love you Yes I try to run Yes I try to hide Yes I try to find other things
28 Months since the last tie in front of morning’s mirror, where the moving sun lit the four corners of his being above the window sill.
Torture is the way. Maybe I deserve it for denial all these years. Maybe my ways have caught up with me. Freedom. Sweet freedom. Pain precedes relief. I have never hungered so completel...
Your voice is rustling the falling… the marble angel praying over you has cold hands that give no recompense So many stones
Look at me, who am I? my life has been one long lie. Fooling myself and others too, pretending to be what isn’t true. I am a clown with made up faces,
I still wake up breathing your nam… and I can hear myself whispering t… driving me two minutes past crazy… the way my voice catches those cor… never fails to make me content
Wrappings, Roses and Tinsel creat… peninsulas, travels, litterings of… well-wishes, seagull fodder, recyc… books of poems as doorstops, the such.
I thought to send you flowers wine and cheese rose wine and dark chocolates but you would know they were from me.
the funny thing about tears is how powerful they are the tears sliding down my face signal an apology to you for the emotional hurt I’ve given.
Tu camino ha tomado un nuevo rumbo, te has ido con tu sonrisa, tus poesías, tu fortaleza y tu pasión me inspiraron y sin embargo seguiremos recordándote cuando montabas tus galantes cab...
There’s always a Church Street and a Starbucks Cafe and sometimes too, a Shopping center Rise where people greet and Main
A Tool Engineer died last night from complication of loosing his soulmate and wife. He was 46 Years old, soft-spoken and an obsessive liar according to her. He never looked the part of ...
I am the wind whispering of eterni… I am silence. I am the junkie on the street corn… I am the moralist who condemns. I am the one who stops to help the…
I could write A thousand love poems That would never be enough To tell of what you mean to me. You inspired me