I wish I had a heart that's after yours. I wish I was more patient, soft, and kind. I wish my spirit walked in step, forbore The harshest suffering with peace of mind. But the process is painstaking slow Than ever it has been in me so far.…
The fact is, this is not the same As once it was; the magic ink Stirs less of me as time leaves lines So deeply carved in me. I think The beauty may be lost for now The muse steps forward, takes her bow; But here I write Despite, despite…
And why the hell unleashed through tiny gates When heaven is the destined end of us? Come, answer this: what justice comes too late To rescue sufferers? Why treat me thus? Alas, for though you doled out life from trees, We took bad fruit and unlocked doors to hell and…
"Just let me drown," he said without a wince. A warm sea, a warm tea, they are the same. You left me then, I have not seen you since. The coffee cup steam seems to spell your name Curling, dark, and warm--I am embraced But drowning nonetheless. Come…
A million ways to scatter light And change the future overnight, And yet you rest content with one. Don't leave your work of art undone. 'Tis your own breath: 'tis full and real Of life and beauty. Into dark Your innovation launches sparks; Oh art and…
Nobody else writes poems like I do. The fixed-form poet's art is old and dry. It limits creativity? Not true. But yes, perhaps its day is long gone by. Oh wait--there are yet writers springing free On heels of metered verse and rhyming ends. Alright: nobody writes in…
Blackest ink, the color of my love, Has carved the snowy footsteps in the night; Compelled to venture where the land grows rough And wrapped in breathlessness like candlelight, Composing notes you may find good enough. Be carved in snowy footsteps of the night And melting snow. With ink as…
Love lightensAs soft starlight brightensEarth wrapped in a hurricane of snow Fold in a lampshade midnight wanderers who goTo feel with all their numbness, anything to knowCold itself is mortal, love not far Eternal, warm, unmarred,Snow-like stars. postscript For day nine of The Trois-Par-Huit. And interesting form based on…