Tagged: poem 4
Not a Dream Anymore
Stumbling across the sparkling purple sand in a dazed confusion, Learning the way through this beautiful, desolate place. Not looking at it as a dream anymore, but as a second home. Feeling the rich,...
Glass Heart
Benevolent fingers of vivid dreams… master at avoiding things. Surprised to see another day, though still live in disarray. Hostage of time, relentless past. Specks of glass mirrors beauty like pieces off a mask....
Forget To Be Good
We forget to be good. The sense of it fading Like a cluttered dream. Those engrained ethics coming loose, To drift off in wispy flocks Like a calm morning of cloud. We grip them...
Empty Intimacies
Haibun Poem The towers of the George Washington Bridge straddle the traffic. The constant drone outside our motel room is our own urban surf. Inside, a musty smell from the carpet complements the...
The Rite (II/III)
Morning ascended – we climbed in the minivan to open shop, as you, and she, had done for years without lapse. I had coiled the night in angst – dreading the future I extruded....
Why I Write Letters
Allow me to put this pen to paper and consider you as more than a passing thought That my sinew and muscles and bones will create this new life which your eyes will give...
